


roses on wrists / Our Solo Hearts

by PeachyKeener



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I Really Hope You Guys Like This, I promise this will be more fluff, M/M, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Calls Tony Stark "Dad", Peter Parker was adopted by Tony Stark AU, Platonic Soulmates, Romantic Soulmates, Shuri is aro, TW: Homophobia in later chapters, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tw: It mentions cutting, Tw: It mentons (assumed) suicide that was actually just medical problems, Uhhhhhhhh, anyway, fluff when its not being angst, harley comes out of his shell and into his own, inspired by prompt "im so glad you're alive" but then made sweet, it STARTS with harley being withdrawn and nervous to be himself and ends with some fluff, its going to be tooth rottening sweet but it will have SOME angst moments, more tags to come, otherwise this entire fic is hurt comfort, too - Freeform, uhh, uhhhh, uhhhhhhhhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 70,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24775948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeachyKeener/pseuds/PeachyKeener
Summary: Peter itched to write on his skin, reaching for a pen and scribbling down,i really love youI love you too,Rose responded in seconds,what was that for?Just thinking about you.-Peter Parker-Stark loves his soulmate, his Rose. Harley Keener loves his soulmate, his Solo. They love each other but don't exactly realize it- and Tony Stark just wants them to stop being idiots.
Relationships: Harley Keener & Peter Parker, Harley Keener & Tony Stark, Harley Keener/Peter Parker, Harry Osborn/Flash Thompson, Liz Allan/Michelle Jones/Shuri, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Tony Stark/Harley Keener's mom (mentioned)
Comments: 107
Kudos: 598
Collections: The Best Harley Keener & (or /) Peter Parker Fics, The Best Irondad/Spiderson Fics, The Best Peter Parker Fluff Fics, The Best Peter Parker Whump Fics, The Best of the Best MCU Fics





	1. Cherry Wine

**Author's Note:**

> hey big warning for the first part!!
> 
> It has peter thinking his soulmate is dead, but rest assured!! harleys okay!! 
> 
> Harley also calls Peter "solo" and Peter calls Harley "rose" because the way soulmates work is that you try not to tell your name just pfornt and out right so they have nicknames. Peter's is Solo bc Han solo, and Harley is Rose because rosehill. they can write on each others skin! 
> 
> uhhhhhh,,,, im gonna try to keep this entire fic fluffy with very LITTLE angst beyond thee /one/ chapter thats gonna be very angsty but ill put a summary at the begining of every next chapter so people can skip it if its too hard to read
> 
> Thank you so much to Sarah For betaing this chpater!!

_ the blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine - hozier, Cherry Wine _

  
  


Peter Parker-Stark’s soulmate is dead. He had died a few days after the first anniversary of Ben’s death. On December seventh, he and his Rose had talked all day. They had talked all day for that entire month, because Rose knew how much he was hurting that December. 

That December had marked a year since Ben had died. Rose and him couldn’t stop talking to each other because if they did, Peter knew he would spiral. It was so bad, that december, that Rose had even forced himself to stop harming- which Peter was really grateful for. Of course he wished that Rose never self harmed, but he knew that was unrealistic in regards to healing. 

If he had known what was going to come, he would’ve just begged Rose to let out his pain somehow and not bottle it up. 

He remembered the feeling. The moment that his world came shattering down around him with the realization that his soulmate bond had been cut off. 

If he could describe it, he would describe it like a football tackle. For a moment, you don’t know what’s happening. You’re off the ground, and there's a pressure in your lungs, and you don’t know what's happened at all, but suddenly you do. You know your soulmate was dead. And Peter- he should’ve seen it coming. He should’ve pressured Rose into meeting the first time his soulmate cut. He should’ve done better. 

He should’ve saved his soulmate like he should’ve saved Ben. 

The month after his soulmate died, he didn’t get out of bed. He knew his dad was worried about him, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything but the fact his Rose was dead. Finally, Tony had brought Steve in. 

That helped. After all, Steve’s soulmates had been Bucky and Peggy and he had lost both of them. 

Slowly, he let himself breath again. By the second month all he could think about was a way to remember his rose. So he did the unthinkable and begged his dad for a tattoo. To his surprise, Tony let him get the tattoo’s he and Steve had carefully designed. 

Everywhere Rose had once cut there was now a tattoo. Rose’s. For his Rose. 

He loved those tattoo’s more than he loved anything in the world, because they were a reminder of the boy he loved and the boy he had lost. And that was okay. Now, three months from the time that his soulmate died, he was finally able to cope again. He was able to breath and he allowed himself to laugh and smile, no matter how hard he mourned his dead soulmate on the inside. The tattoo’s helped. 

The tattoo’s helped until he felt a familiar tingle on his left arm. 

_ Solo. Why do we have tattoos? _

He stared at the cursive on his arm and tried to breath, “Friday. Get dad.”    
  
His head was pounding as he answered back with a shaking hand. He tried his best to make it legible and he held his breath, tears welling up in his eyes.  _ rose? is that you? _ _  
_

_ Yeah, who else would it be? We don't have a third _

_ how are you alive,  _ he wrote, trying his hardest not to let the tears streaming down his face fall onto the ink as he let out a rough overwhelmed sob,  _ you died, love, i felt our bond snap _

_ Oh.  _ His soulmate;s hand was suddenly shaking, and Peter could see the hesitance in his script,  _ No. I thought my mom wrote to you on my arm. No, I’m alive. I did die- but they brought me back. It wasn’t-- it wasn’t-- anything like you’re thinking. Just a problem with my heart. _

Peter could feel himself tremble, as the sobs overtook him,  _ god, youre here, youre here, i cant believe youre hear oh my rose im so sorry oh god i love you i love you i love you _

His words were shakier than anything else he had ever written, but he felt their truth in his entire soul, as he sobbed, tracing over the letters of rose’s handwriting. His Rose was alive and well and with him again. 

_ I love you too, Solo,  _ Peter let out an even rougher sob at the reminder of his nickname,  _ I love you so much. Are you breathing, baby? _

He couldn’t say he was because he wasn’t. Instead his trembling hands wrote his love on his trembling arm,  _ i love you more than ive ever loved anything and i love you so muchrose i love youso much somuch  _

_ Okay, baby, I need you to go get your dad. Can you do that? _

_ yes,  _ Peter clutched at his arm,  _ hes on his way _

_ Okay, love. I’m here.  _

“He’s here,” Peter’s voice hitched, sobbing hard, “Oh god- rose is alive- he’s here.”   
  
His father came into the room, and stared at him wide eyed, before pulling him into a hug, “It's okay. It's okay. I’ve got you.”   
  
“Rose is alive-” His voice was a shout, and he was filled with so much joy as he focused on the words on his arm, “Rose is here- he’s alive dad- he’s okay- he's alive- I-”   
  
His hands scrambled away from his dad to focus on Rose,  _ I love you so much i love you more than i can say im so happy youre okay im really really happy _

_ I know you are, baby,  _ Rose’s cursive was amazing to see on his skin,  _ I know you are. I’m going to be okay. Just keep breathing.  _

He started laughing, a small broken song, and he presses his face to his father's shoulders and wrote out without looking,  _ im breathing fine but do you like the tattoos? _

_ Yes. I love them so much- I love the roses.  _

_ Good. theyre for you. _

His dad rubbed his shoulder, “Your Rose is alive, kid.”   
  
Nothing could describe the joy he was feeling at the moment. His Rose was alive and well and he was breathing. The feeling of him dying had been nothing more than a fluke and he was breathing and okay. Thank god. Thank god. 

_ They’re for you too, Solo,  _ Rose stopped writing for a moment then resumed,  _ Listen, I have to go for a medical examination- but I’ll be back as soon as I can. I love you, Solo. _

Peter sobbed,  _ I love you too. _

He waited for words to come and when no more did he turned to his dad with wet eyes and a smile so big it hurt, “He’s alive, Dad. He’s really alive.”

“I know kiddo,” Tony smiled softly, “He’s alive.”   
  
For now, that was enough. 

Peter was sure that when Rose got back, he would ask him about what happened and a million questions about if he was okay. He’d ask him if there was anything he could do or anything he could help with. He’d offer to steal the moon from the sky for him. 

But for now, he leaned into his dad and sobbed tears that left him feeling lighter than he had in months. 

  
  


_ it looks ugly but its clean / mama dont fuss over me - hozier, Cherry Wine _

  
  


Harley looked at his mom, staring at the paper in her hands with wide eyes, “Mama-”   
  
“I want you to take that internship, Harley,” Macy Keener’s hands were trembling, “I need you too.”   


“But Mama-”   
  
“No buts harley,” His mom had clearly been trying not to cry the entire afternoon, “I want you to apply for that fancy Stark internship in New York because you and I both know that you need it.”   
  
He swallowed, slowly taking the paperwork out of her hands, “I can’t do this to you, ma. You need me here.”   
  
“Harley, they almost-”   
  
“Stop.” Harley closed his eyes and breathed, “You need me here for Abbie and to take care of the taxes and to help you make money. I’m not filling this out.”   
  
His mom sat down, and she tucked some of her long curly hair out of her face. Harley secretly had a desire to grow his hair out, just to see if he had the same ringlets. She ran a hand over her face and looked at him, “Yes you are.”

“Mama, I can’t.”   
  
“Yes you can,” her voice was stern, “You can because all those things you worry about here won’t be there in New York. Your sister and I can’t join you yet because she has to get passed the fifth grade and then she needs to pass sixth.”   
  
“But I-” His hands were trembling, “I have to finish my sophomore year. I need- I need to complete my junior year too.”    
  
“Oh, Harley, they’re paying for all those accepted in the internship to go to that fancy STEM school in Midtown,” Harley knew the one. Anyone who went there was almost guaranteed admission to MIT. His mom smiled softly, “And even more, it's a place where you can thrive.”    
  
“I don’t want to leave you.”   
  
“It’d only be for a little bit,” She reached out and smoothed his hair out of his forehead, “It’d only be until the next school year. The program is reviewing applicants next month, and then accepting the month after that. You’d only have a month of your sophomore year left by the time you get there, and then the summer and then your junior year and then me and Abbie are going to come up so she can go to junior high up there. Okay?”   
  
“But mom,” Halrey tried not to show the fact that the idea of getting out of Rosehill was probably the best thing he had ever thought about, “What will you do about money? I know the only reason we were able to buy that used car was because I’ve been workin’ at Frankies.” 

“Well, you see,” She pointed to something on the papers, “It's a paid internship.”

His breath caught in his throat, “Mom this is- 27 dollars an hour- is-”   
  
“Is fantastic and amazing,” her smile was soft, “And I want you to keep all of it.”   
  
“What?” 

“You heard me, Harley David,” Her smile was soft but her voice was firm, even if there were tears in her eyes at the idea of letting her son go, “I want you to keep all the money you make in New York and save up for college. MIT doesn’t come cheap.”   
  
“But mom-”   
  
She leaned over and kissed his forehead, and gave her patented Macy Keener ‘I’m-a-proud-mama’ look, “You’re brilliant. And you haven’t had the easiest time in this town or this life. So I’m asking you to fill out this application and go to New York. Okay?”    
  
“Okay,” He swallowed again, and the next words that flew out of his mouth were ones he didn't mean to say, “Are you sure you wanting me to apply for this internship isn't you wanting to meet the reason you have that scar on your chest, mom?”

He watched as her words impacted her, but instead of the far away look she usually got when he mentioned the soulmate she never spoke to, she just shook her head, “That road is closed for me Harley. He has a son-”  
  
“-adopted-”   
  
“-and I have a family,” She kissed his forehead again, “Besides, after your father I don’t want to be in a relationship. I just wanna focus on my brilliant son and wonderful daughter.”   
  
“All the more reason I shouldn’t be doing this,” The excuse sounded feeble to his own ears, “What if he comes back?”   
  
“He won’t.”   
  
“I just.. I’m scared.”    
  
“I know you are, sweetpea,” Macy laughed wetly and Harley was struck with just how good of a mother she was, “I know you are. But I’m not. Because when you get that internship you’ll be good and safe and happy, in a place where a person as smart as you is allowed to be their brilliant, amazing, awesome selves. Okay?”    
  
“Okay.”   
  
“Now,” She cleared her throat and wiped her eyes, and pulled away from the kitchen, “You go and fill that out and I’ll mail it first thing in the morning, on express to New York.”   
  
“Okay- mom?”   
  
She turned to him, and he stood and gave her the biggest hug he could, “I love you.”   
  
“I love you too sweet pea,” his mom gave the best hugs in the entire world, and he loved her absolutely so much. 

He would spend the next hour filling out his application for the internship, trying to make himself sound like a very amazing person who was totally worth investing in. If it was just based on brains, Harley would be in no problem, but because a portion of it was who you were as a person, he had to bear his heart and soul out to the people who would be admitting him.

That night, when he had seen his mom off to the night shift and tucked Abbie into bed, he allowed himself to dream. Of towering buildings, and Iron Man, and of a boy in Queens called Solo. He dreamt of being loved and accepted by more than just his family and he dreamt of comfort and a home beyond the rose bushes. 

He dreamt of New York city. 

  
  


_ it's worth it its divine / i have this some of the time - hozier, Cherry Wine _

  
  


Friday nights were take out nights. Usually, they included Aunt May and Pepper, and Rhodey, and the rest of the avengers, but tonight it was just him and dad. He pretended like he didn't know the reason was that his aunt and pepper had decided to go on a date, and the rest of the avengers and rhodey had gone to a charity thing for some corrupt company they were doing a mission on. 

Instead Peter pressed into his dad's side and hummed, “Tell me again about my parents?”   
  
“You know, you ask this story every friday night,” Tony teased, “One would think you don’t see me as a parent.”    
  
“As if, dad,” He rolled his eyes and leaned more into him, shoveling the take out into his mouth at a rapid speed, chewing while he talked, “You raised me, they just gave me life and a few good memories.”   
  
Tony smiled at him, eyes twinkling, “Well your mom, Mary, was a biochemist who went to Harvard, and your dad was one of me and Rhodey’s sweetmates at MIT. Richard and Mary hated each other before they realized that hate was just misplaced attraction and finally went on a date. They got married a year out of college, and moved to New York with me to help Stark Industry into the prosthetics game. They had you a few years down the line and loved you to death. They took you everywhere- but your favorite place to be was hanging with me. Of course, back then I wasn’t ‘dad’ I was just ‘Uncie Tony!’” He did an impression of four year old Peter, “but you were still practically my kid, and Mary and Richard loved that about you.” 

“Dad,” He whined, pouting, “You’re not telling it right.”   
  
“Well, bug, I can’t tonight because,” He motioned to the stack of papers on the table, “You and I are going to be finding the last person in the program.”

Peter felt excitement spark through him and he gasped, “Oh my god- actually?”   
  
“Yep, actually,” His dad just looked amused, “I know I said you weren’t allowed but I’ve narrowed it down to five kids, and I want you to tell me who should be it.”    
  
“Okay, Okay,” He grinned, “I’m so unprepared for this you don’t even know-”   
  
“Oh I know.”   
  
“Come on dad, this is a person that's gonna be living with us,” Peter moved to scoop up the papers, “And it's going to be wonderful.”    
  
“Yes, yes it is,” His dad reached for one. 

Slowly they fell into a rhythm of looking for another person for the program. Peter stretched and shifted so his feet were splayed across the couch and his back was resting on his dad's arm, “So, this Arthur Read guy seems nice.”   
  
“Yeah,” Tony nodded, “But I don't know- something about him feels fishy.”    
  
“How so?”   
  
“Hmm..” Tony looked at the town he was from, “I’ve got it- I can’t believe I didn’t realize it before, but this kid from the town in Alabama that picketted that school teachers wedding because they thought he should’ve married her cousin, not his husband.”   
  
“So?”   
  
“So, if he’s anything like his town,” He motioned between the two of them, “Then living with two openly bi men- and that Lesbian girl from Chicago, Riri, and Shuri who is… all kinds of gay, and Harry who is even more gay than Shuri- would probably be a nightmare.”    
  
Peter nodded, “You’re right, to be honest. Okay- what about the next one, Arnold Perlstein?”   
  
“He seems nice enough,” His dad's brow furrowed, “But I think that the fact he doesn't like change but wants to live with the Avengers is fishy. I don’t think this would be the healthiest environment for him.”   
  
“Oh, Okay,” He skipped past the next one, “I took a look at Lisa Simpson and something about her family just gives me weird vibes. I don't know, man.”    
  
“Alright,” his dad grabbed the two last applications, “So we’re down to Phineas Flynn or Harley Keener.”   
  
Something in his chest stirred, and he swallowed down a strange lump, “Um… this file says he has separation anxiety and we already didn’t accept his brother ferb. Best go with..” He fell silent as he looked at the picture submitted for Harley Keener. 

The photo was obviously taken from a time where Harley wasn’t looking at the taker. He had a smile on his face, something soft and slow and sweet. His jawline was sharp but his skin looked soft to the touch. He had thousands of freckles splayed across his skin, and his blue eyes were looking down at the book he was reading. It was a side shot, profiling his arms and chest, and it was perhaps the most beautiful thing in the entire world. 

What Peter wouldn’t do to take a picture of that beautiful boy and model him forever. 

He blinked and shook his head. Sure- Harley was hot, but Rose was his soulmate and he would never betray his Rose. He just wouldn’t. 

Tony was staring at him with a raised brow, “Best to go with?”   
  
“That Harley Keener guy,” He tried to play nonchalant, like he hadn’t just been dreaming of making a catalog (calendar??) of only this boys face, “He’s got a perfect SAT score too, and he's only a sophomore.”    
  
“Right,” his dad hummed, looking away, “His mom sent a letter too-”   
  
Pete tuned out his dad. 

Was he a bad person for finding this boy so attractive? Was he betraying Rose by thinking about the way Harley’s lips looked? No. He wasn’t. Having a thought wasn’t a crime, it was just acting on them that was unfair. 

He lived Rose and he didn’t  _ know _ this Harley Keener kid. He was just attracted to him, but he wasn’t  _ in love _ with him. It was perfectly fine to be attracted. 

Peter itched to write on his skin, reaching for a pen and scribbling down,  _ i really love you _

_ I love you too,  _ Rose responded in seconds,  _ what was that for? _

_ Just thinking about you. _

His dad looked up, “Hey are you paying attention at all?”   
  
“Uh,” He blinked, “Yes?”   
  
“I’ll take that as a no,” Tony rolled his eyes and reached over Peter to grab some take out, “But we’ve decided right? Harley Keener?”   
  
“Yep. Harley Keener.”   
  
“Well,” His dad shoved some food in his face, “I’m gonna write his acceptance letter and send it away tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Peter chewed at his fork, “Are we watching star wars now?”   
  
“Yes, we’re watching star wars now  _ Solo.” _

“Shut up!”   
  
“You’re just a super nerd, you know that?”   
  
“And you’re mean to me!”    
  
“I am your loving father! How dare you!”    
  
And Peter relaxed into the easy banter, all thoughts of the beautiful Harley Keener out of his head.

  
  


_ her fight and fury is fiery / oh but she loves -hozier, Cherry Wine _

  
  


Harley was shaking slightly. They said his mom could come with him on the plane- but only after he had confessed to the Stark Industries employee he’d been messaging that he had never actually been on a plane before. He was still slightly shocked that he had gotten accepted. 

His mom wasn’t. No, Macy Keener knew that if anyone would get accepted it would be her son. Of course, Harley hadn’t put all his faith in a mother's love, but he was here on the plane to new york.

“Breath, Harley,” His mom was staring at the window of the private jet, trying to keep it together herself, “It's going to be okay. You’ll do amazing in New York.”   
  
He swallowed air, “I… I guess I just… don’t know how to respond to this, mom.”

“Explain your thought process.”   
  
“I was bullied in school by people who were way better and cooler than me,” He began the shaky process of explaining his thoughts, “What if they take one look at me and decide I’m too weird and awful to actually be in the program and send me back.”   
  
His mom considered his words, because his mom was the best mom in the world, and always took his fears seriously, “Okay. Well… I doubt that anyone there could be cooler than you, especially when considering that you’re one of the smartest people in the country if your IQ is anything to go by. Remember this isn’t going to be like high school. This is a meeting of the smartest kids in the country and you are one of those kids. They’re not gonna send you back because they’ll see you’re too brilliant to hold back anymore.”

“Okay,” His eyes were stinging, “Thank you.”   
  
“I love you, sweetpea,” she leaned over to kiss his forehead gently, “And I’m proud of you.”    
  
“Do you think Abbie’s still gonna be mad at me after this?”   
  
“No, sweetpea, because she's not mad at you now,” Her hands had occupied themselves smoothing his hair, “She just wishes that we could stay with you, is all. And we’ll be coming up after you land the full time internship.”   
  
“What if I don’t?”   
  
“Then we’ll move up here anyway.”   
  
He pressed his hands to his eyes, “Mom?”   
  
“Yeah?”   
  
“You’re my hero.”   
  
He removed his head from his hands to see the tears in his mom’s eyes and the watery smile she had pressed to her lips, “You’re my hero too.”   
  
He stayed quiet after that, looking out the window, heart pounding. New York City. He was going to be in Manhattan. He would be a thirty five minute drive from Queens. An hour and a minute subway ride. A four hour walk. An hour and a thirty minute bike ride. He bet he could probably get there even faster with rocket boots or some dumb way of flieght travel. 

He would be so close to his soulmate that he could practically see him. He closed himself and let himself imagine the boy he was seeing, but all that sprung to mind was a discounted Han Solo in modern clothes. He fought back the urge to smile. 

“You know,” His mom pressed a pen to his arm, “You could write to him.”   
  
He flushed, “And tell him I’m coming to New york? No way. I need to make sure I can stay in New York before I tell him.”   
  
“Just in general, sweetpea.”   
  
“I don’t usually start our conversations,” He mumbled, looking down, “But normally, we’re talking all day. He said he had something important going on today but would answer if I wrote.”

“So write him.”   
  
In that moment, a part of him wanted to lash out at her. She had a soulmate too, but she never spoke to him, so why would she expect Harley to reach out to his. Slowly he let go of that anger that had welled up in his chest. His mom had never been able to reach out to her soulmate. They had tried to talk when they were younger and life got in the way and now his mom didn’t think it was worth reaching out to him. 

Harley wouldn’t become like his mother. He took a pen, and wrote in his soft cursive,  _ Hey, Solo. _

_ rose!! how are you?? _

_ I’m good,  _ he scribbled back, already feeling the leftover tension draining from him,  _ I just wanted to check in- see how things have been going.  _

_ me and dad are waiting for some friends, _ He traced over the familiar chicken scratch as it appeared, _ were really excited to see them _

_ Oh yeah? _

_ yeah!! this is gonna be literally the best ever im literally so excited!! _

_ Okay, how much coffee have you had? Honestly.  _

_ ….a lot and its scary you knew that  _

Harley’s grin was wide. Nothing made him happier than Solo, and nothing made him feel more at peace than knowing his solo was out there waiting for him. They continued talking for the last twenty minutes of the flight, when they landed at the Starks private airport strip, just outside New york. 

He held his breath, “I can see Mr. Stark and his son out there.”

“Oh sweetpea,” Macy was going to cry, “I’m so proud of you. You’ve done good- okay. Okay. Let's get out there, and you and I can say goodbye. Alright?”   
  
Harley was too excited to do anything but nod. They grabbed his bags- two beat up suitcases that his mom had had since she was a teenager- and slowly made their way off the private jet. He was scared but excited. It felt like he was opening a new chapter of his life. 

Tony Stark met them at the bottom of the plane’s stairs, “Welcome to the big city, Mr. Keener! Try not to get too scared by the fact that we don't have stars, it's just the pollution, you'll get used to it.”   
  
“I.. uh..” He tried to find words, “Can't imagine a sky with absolutely no stars, so that’ll be fun.”   
  
But Mr. Stark’s attention was no longer on him, his eyes flitting over his mom, “And you must be Macy Keener.”   
  
“Yes, sir,” Harley had never heard his mom so quiet or flustered, “I’m just here to see him off, like I told your fabulous employee over email.”   
  
“Oh, that wasn’t an employee,” Harley was feeling more and more awkward by the second because he was almost certain that Mr. Stark was flirting with his mom, “That was Peter- my son. He’s been in charge of Harley’s application and process personally. However- if you’d like, you can stay for dinner?”   
  
His mom flushed, “That's mighty sweet of you, Mr. Stark, but I gotta get home to my daughter.”    
  
“Right,” Mr. Stark looked disappointed for a brief second, “Well, it was lovely to meet you anyway.”   
  
“You too,” she then turned away from Tony to cup Harley's face, “Call me every night, okay?”

He nodded, pulling her into a hug, “You tell me everything that happens at the dinner, okay? If Crazy Rick gives you trouble-”   
  
“You need to stop worrying about me, sweetpea,” she kissed the side of his head, “I’m so proud of you.”   
  
“Thank you, Mama.”   
  
And just like that his mom was walking back up the steps of the plane. Harley didn’t like the feeling of leaving his mom and his sister alone in Rosehill, but this was okay. This was okay. Mr. Stark touched his shoulder and he startled so badly that the old man stepped back slightly.

“You can visit her any time you want,” Mr. Stark said instead of commenting on how badly he had spooked Harley, “Say the word and you can go back and visit.”    
  
Harley hesitated, then looked towards the limousine, where Peter Stark was putting his bag in the trunk, “I know… but I think I’m going to like it here-” he rubbed the back of his neck, trying to find the right words, “-after all we get to build things, right?”   
  
“Yeah, kid, we do.”   
  
He looked towards the city, and he met Peter Stark’s eye. Somewhere in Queens, his Solo was waiting.


	2. Green Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harley was nothing like Peter was expecting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop! CHapter two! 
> 
> Last Chapter: 
> 
> Peter found out his soulmate was alive, and a few months later Harley gets into SI's young reqruites program.

_ i do my make-up in somebody else's car -lorde, Green Light _

  
  


Harley was nothing like Peter was expecting. For starters the kid was kinda quiet, and withdrawn. In the photo he had submitted for application he had seemed so open and happy, but here in the back seat of the car, he looked like he was going to be sick. 

He was just as beautiful as his photo, Peter thought, then shook it out of his head. This kid clearly had some baggage though- if the dark bags under his eyes and the paleness was anything to go by. He was also just skin and bones, which Peter thought was a little weird because it definitely said on his ‘Likes’ that he liked to cook. 

“Hey,” he wanted to be this guys friend. He was determined not to leave this conversation until he had established friendship, “I’m Peter.”    
  
Harley’s lip quirked up, but he didn’t smile. When he spoke, his voice was just above a whisper, “You already introduced yourself.”   
  
“Yeah but that was so formal and boring!” 

“Well,” Harley hesitated and Peter wanted to take a thousand and one photos of just his blue eyes, no matter how sickly he was looking right now, “I’m Harley.”   
  
“Okay, Harley,” He leaned slightly closer to him, “Do you like Star Wars?”   
  
Harley leaned back, and Peter made a note in his head to not invade his space again, because now Harley was shaking slightly. The moment of anxiety on his face was gone as he took a deep breath and offered Peter the smallest smile he had ever seen on anyone’s face, “I love Star Wars.”   
  
“Really?” He grinned, trying to encourage him to talk, “It's the best, isn’t it?”   
  
“Yeah- I love the prequels.”    
  
“The prequels,” Peter put a hand over his heart, horrified, overdramatically reacting, “You fiend! That's horrible!”   
  
“It is?” Harley’s voice went tiny and small, and his entire demeanor shifted from someone trying to engage in a conversation to someone who had cut off all attention in a conversation, “I’m sorry.”    
  
Peter faltered, and met his dad’s eyes in the mirror. He thought it was an innocent joke, but seemingly, his dad knew how much he messed up, his eyes flicking between Peter and Harley in the rearview mirror, urging him to talk again. Peter shook his head, “No hey, I was just messing with you. The prequels are just as good as the other movies.”

The damage had been done though, and all Harley did was nod. Peter scrambled for something to say, “Uh- what else do you like?”   
  
“Building,” Harley spoke slowly, “I actually-” His cheeks colored slightly, “I made something cause the- the program said we’d get a chance to make things for Spider-Man.”

“Really?” Peter felt a rush of excitement at the mention of his alter ego, “What’d you make?”   
  
Harley hesitated, then leaned down, reaching into the front pocket of his back to a robot no bigger than his palm. Its core was made of a double a battery that was glowing blue, and it had long spindly legs, “This is Bitsy. She’s a spider.”    
  
“Oh my god,” Peter’s eyes were wide as he watched the spider stand on Harley's palm then shake itself out like a dog, scampering up Harley's arm and nestling on his shoulder, “Is that an ai you designed? Is that a double a battery? Oh my god- she’s adorable?”   
  
“You really think so?”   
  
“Dud- this is  _ amazing-” _

“She really is,” Harley’s small smile was back now, but somehow it was brighter, as if having his bot out was the best thing in the world, “She’s a learning ai- and yeah. I powered her with a double A batter that I reworked so that the acid in it runs like an arc reactor- reversing the magnetism of electrons, you know? One battery- unlimited energy.”   
  
Peter nodded along with his words, “You’re brilliant.”   
  
“Nah,” Harley’s cheeks grew a little more pink, “But she is- she’s a little trouble maker.”    
  
The last of his words were punctuated with Bitsy crawling up the side of his head and pulling on the hair at the top. Harley didn’t even wince, but he offered Peter an apologetic look, like a tired dad apologizing for their daughters misbehavior. The action made Peter laugh, “No, I think she’s adorable.”    
  
“Thank you,” He watched Harleys eyes grow a little more soft, and a part of him hoped this meant they were going to be friends forever now, “She's a bit buggy, but I like her like this. ‘Course I might make another to give to Spider-Man, act like a constant companion, you know?”   
  
Peter nodded, eyes wide with the possibility of getting a Bity, “Oh my god- Spidey would love that.”   
  
“He would?” Harley’s face colored, “That's really cool you know him. He’s like my favorite hero.”

His dad made an offended noise, “I’m right here, kid!”   
  
He saw Harleys face flash with uncertainty, so he spoke up, “No Harley’s right! Out with the old generation of heroes, and in with the new!”   
  
“..Yeah, Mr. Stark,” Harley glanced at Peter, and he offered the most encouraging smile he could, “Spider-Man represents the future. I mean-” Harley let out a breath that Peter hadn’t realized he’d been holding, “He's an amazing hero that stays local in order to make sure he’s always helping the people that truly need it, he always puts others first, and he’s always doing the absolute best he can in any given circumstance. If anyone would be a good legacy for you, the best hero of the day, it’s Spider-Man who has already proven on multiple occasions that he’s a really genuinely good guy.” 

Peter didn’t mean to blush, but he couldn’t stop the tips of his ears from going bright red. Wow- Harley thought he was that good? That was- wow. It was just wow. 

His dad seemed to be stunned to silence too, and Peter didn’t know if it was the “best hero of the day” comment or the way that Harley spoke about Spider-Man. There was no way for Harley to know that he was sitting next to said man spider, but it was still possibly the kindest thing that Peter had ever heard anyone say. 

“What?” Harley shrank in on himself slightly, and Peter wanted to beg him to come back out of his shell, “did I say something wrong?” 

Tony shook his head, “No, kid, it’s just really nice to hear people talk about Spider-Man like that.”   
  
“Well.. he's kind of the best new hero we have,” Harley rubbed the back of his neck, and Bitsy shifted mechanically on his head, “I really think he’s cool.”   
  
“Then it’s decided,” Peter caught his dad’s eye as the older man spoke, “You and Peter can handle Spider-Man duty together.”   
  
Harley smiled wider than anybody Peter had ever seen, “really?”   
  
“Of course, kid.”

“Wow- that's so-” The boy lit up like a kid on Christmas, “That's like my biggest dream- designing stuff for hero’s. I have all these cool ideas I wanna run by him now- wow- thats so-”   
  
Peter really enjoyed the way Harley looked when he was just being himself, with no weight dragging him down. He loved how Harley’s eyes sparkled with joy at the idea of making something for his favorite hero. He just… really liked how Harley was when those walls were down. 

As soon as the moment was over, Harley’s walls were back up, but by then it was too late. 

Not only was Peter Parker going to befriend Harley Keener, he was going to help bring down those walls.   
  
  


_ well those great whites they have big teeth / oh they bite you -lorde, Green Lights _

  
  


Harley sat awkwardly on the bed. He wasn’t exactly sure what to do with himself now that he was here in New York. Normally, he’d write Solo but he didn’t want to bother him- after all, Spider-Man usually did patrols from ten to two am, and it was already eleven. 

He was kinda very excited to meet his soulmate- even if he couldn’t tell Solo he was meeting him. He had known about the whole ‘Solo is Spider-Man thing’ since he was fourteen and Solo wrote him in a fever state about sticking to walls and being able to bend the metal of his bed frame. After three months and then a new hero showing up on the scene with the exact set of power’s his fever dreamed soulmate had said he had, it wasn’t too hard to put together. 

Now though, he was just sitting here awkwardly, waiting for his phone to charge, in a penthouse full of people he didn’t know and who would definitely hate him by a few weeks in. 

Meeting everyone had been fun. The group dinner had been… interesting. But there was honestly no way that  _ he,  _ a kid who was used to buying all his clothes third hand and taking food donations from his church, would have anything in common with two billionaires, a princess, and the billionaires soulmate. He supposed he may have a little in common with the girl from Chicago. 

Harry Osbron was nice though- the boy was funny, and charismatic, and really had a knack for people. He wasn’t technically in the program, he had explained to Harley earlier that day, rather he was training with Pepper on how to run a business properly for when he took over oscorp. 

Harry’s soulmate Flash was a bit mean, but honestly out of the two of them, he preferred Flash. Sure the boy was a bit rude at times, but something about him read ‘do not fuck with me’ while also reading ‘i am craving affection.’ Harley could relate to that. He was also there for biochemistry, but he’d been happy to be assigned to the prosthetic’s division of SI. 

Again, Riri was the only one who didn’t seem to know the others, and that seemed… really nice. She was sort of weirded out by how close the others were too, but she was quick to join in on the banter and fun like an old friend coming home for the first time since they went to college. 

Shuri was kind of another story. The girl was a literal princess, but she was also extremely smart, extremely well educated, and clever as a cookie. She could probably see how awkward and uncomfortable he was with everyone, and soon enough, he would bet money, that she’d tease him about it. 

Honestly, he really really just wanted to fit in. Back in Rosehill he hadn’t had any friends. Point blank any. Even people that were  _ bullied  _ bullied him. He was just… he was like the runt of the litter that was so tiny that even the other runts would try to take a bite. 

And here he was, moping about, wondering if any one of them would  _ want  _ to be his friends. 

Things would be easier if he could talk to Solo openly or freely, but he didn’t want anyone asking questions about his scars. He missed talking to his soulmate. He hadn’t had time to write to him since he got settled into the place, and now was patrol time and now he was thinking in circles. 

He was so pathetic. He was a pathetic little baby with nothing going for him that should just give up now because nobody here wanted to hang up with pathetic babies with no friends besides their soulmate- 

“Hey, white boy,” Shuri’s voice whispered through his door, “Are you still up?”   
  
He startled, jerking to his feet and tripping, “Uh- Shuri?”   
  
“Yes, dude, who else would it be?”   
  
“I don't’ know,” he admitted slowly, feeling awkward as he opened the door, “Um- whats up?”   
  
“You’re still awake.” She said bluntly and then swept into the room like she was royalty- which, she was, “You’re the only one besides me still awake. Apparently Riri has a good sleep schedule and I try to avoid Flash and Harry’s room if I can help it.”   
  
“I,” His brain was firing warning signals because she was in his space. This was the space that he had claimed as his own, and she was in it, and he swallowed down air and remembered how his mom would handle it, “Yeah. I don’t sleep very well. Do you wanna go down to the living room instead of staying here? I still haven't unpacked.”   
  
Shuri examined his words and him with a curious eye, like a panther that had frozen to avoid detection from its prey, “Yeah. Sure. Do me a favor though?”   
  
He had heard lines like this before. He balled his shaking hands, “Yeah?”

“Paint my nails?” The question was so innocnet, and not at all the rude ‘fuck off’ he was expecting, and she grinned at him, “I would do it myself but I always mess them upsome how. You work well with metal and wires, so you must have a steady hand, yes?”   
  
“Yeah, actually,” He breathed out, and then he admitted, just because it felt like the right thing to say, “I painted my sisters nails a lot. I used to be able to do a few designs too.”    
  
“Oh, you’re talented, white boy,” Shuri marched out of his room, uncaring that Harley had very strict boundaries, linking their arms together as she dragged him to the living room, “but don’t worry- talented is not needed, just company.”    
  
“Thank you?” He was struggling to keep his breath in his throat, but after a moment, he sank into the touch on his arm, “Glad to know I can be, uh, just company.”   
  
Shuri patted his arm, “You’re slowly becoming my favorite white boy.”   
  
“What about Peter?”   
  
“Peter doesn’t paint my nails.”   
  
“Well, I,” this was it. He was making a  _ friend,  _ “I haven’t painted them yet. They could be terrible for all you know.”   
  
“But they won't be,” Shuri hummed and dragged him to the couch, the lights turning on automatically. 

Harley’s eyes found the windows. It was beautiful, out there. Never mind that Tony Stark said there were no stars- New York didn’t need stars. It had buildings, and people, and a nightlife. It had people in clubs, and writers in restaurants, and artists craving a late night snack. 

It had Solo, swinging over it to make sure that it was okay. 

He looked back at Shuri, determined to come out of today with two new friends- if he was counting Peter, “So, where's the nail polish.”   
  
“Patience, young padawan,” shuri hummed, “Before nails, comes nail care. Do you know how to file and clean cuticles?”   
  
Harley nodded, and Shuri layed out familiar objects and Harley let himself fall into a rhythm. Shuri’s hands were too soft to be Abbie’s or his mom’s, but the actions were familiar. This was nice. Holding someone’s hand as he worked was nice. 

He thought Shuri was really nice too. He had never met someone who could manage such power- point blank. He had never met a princess of a different country who doubled as their scientific head, either, though. 

Shuri liked to talk- or maybe she just liked how it filled silence. As he did her nails a neon green, he learnt that she loved aliens, and her brother and father, she fought with her mom sometimes because they were so alike, and she really missed home.    
  
“It's just very different here,” She shrugged, “Wakanda was much more advanced. I miss it.”   
  
Harley finished up her left hand, “I would miss it too, if the world around me was more advanced than the human race had ever seen.”   
  
“Yeah,” There was a wistfulness in her voice, “What about you? Homesick yet?”   
  
“I-” He thought about it, reaching for the top coat, “I think I am yeah. I miss how there were stars- but I prefer the city skyline. And I miss my sister. If I were in Tennessee right now, we’d be watching Doctor Who together and making fun of the bad guys of the episode. And my mom would be getting off hospital shift, and would be coming down to kiss us goodnight and have a bowl of ice cream together before she heads to the overnight dinner to work the night shift.”

“But you don’t miss your town?”   
  
“No.”   
  
“I wouldn’t miss it either, if I grew up in rural ass bumpkinville.”   
  
Harley’s lips quirked up and he met Shuri’s eyes, “Hey. Ville implies a town. Rosehill was twenty houses stacked up on each other, a bunch of farm lands, and a small street in the center where people could shop and stuff.”   
  
That made Shuri laugh, and Harley fought the urge to join in. 

Secretly, he wondered if this was what having friends was like. Secretly, he was thinking about how proud his mom would be for not shutting Shuri down the second she knocked on his door. Secretly, he was thinking of what he’d tell Solo in the morning.   
  
Secretly, he felt like this was the start of his happiness. 

  
  


_ im waiting for it / that green light -lorde, Green Light _

  
  


It wasn’t that Peter was  _ jealous _ that Shuri had somehow managed to become best friends with Harley in a night. Because he wasn’t jealous at all. He wasn’t upset that his twelve step plan to get Harley Keener to become his best friend was now invalid because Shuri had claimed him as her best friend. No. That was not what was going on, at all, because he was just happy that Harley was making friends.

Okay but seriously- he spent a solid three hours of training time just thinking of the twelve step plan that would make Harley Keener want to be his best friend and now he had to throw that away? 

Well, there was one place Shuri couldn’t show him up in; school. He rested assured knowing that Shuri would be teaching her class at NYU while Peter was becoming best friends with Harley and stealing him away from her evil little clutches. And it was  _ only  _ best friends that he wanted because he would never betray Rose like that, no matter  _ how  _ blue Harley’s eyes were. He really did just want to become friends with the other boy. 

Something about Harley just… clicked with him, and he wanted to bring back that Spark in him that he’d seen in the car ride. He wanted to help Harley relax and bring out that wonderful person that he had seen a glimpse of, and he knew he could do it. Rose always told him he was good at people. 

“I feel sick,” Harley mumbled, and to Peter it felt like he wasn’t even aware he was talking, “I’m going to be sick.”    
  
Peter looked towards him, eyes concerned, “Harley? Are you okay, dude?”   
  
“Uh-” Harley blinked, looking at him with a face much paler than he’d been all week, “Yeah. Yeah.”    
  
“Are you nervous for your first day at Midtown?” Peter knew he’d had the right idea when Harley’s cheeks flushed.   
  
“Not- not really,” The blonde boy looked down at his untouched cereal and shrugged, “It's supposed to be for smart people right?”   
  
“Yeah- and you’re one of the smartest people here!”   
  
Harley shook his head, playing with the end of the shirt sleeve, “Riri and Shuri are both way smarter than me.”

“But you’re brilliant too.”   
  
“You think so?”   
  
“Dude,” He smiled widely at Harley, “You made a learning ai. You’re brilliant. The school work will be no problem.”    
  
“Okay…” Halrey nodded hesitantly, “Okay. If you say so. What about- are- are people nice?”   
  
“Oh yeah,” Peter kept the smile on his face, “There’s like- the jocks are kind of assholes and like to shove people around, but ultimately everyone’s really cool and chill with one another.”   
  
Harley’s face fell into an even sicker look, and Peter jumped to correct his mistake, “Not that anyone would be mean to you! I mean you’re one of the people who won the competition so you’re gonna be like- seen as really popular.”    
  
“I just,” the other boy shrank in on himself and Peter could have bashed his own head in at the sight, “Don’t know.”   
  
“Well.. if you don’t know,” he started hesitantly, “Then stick by me. I’ve got your back.”   
  
The words made Harley blink up at him, “You do?”   
  
“Yeah,” He said, “I do.”   
  
And finally, some of the tension Harley had sank out of him, “Thank you.”   
  
Harley offered a smile, and Peter smiled back. 

The ride to school was in a comfortable ramble, where Harley listened to him intently, interjecting quietly at points, and Peter just talked, hanging on every word that Harley offered. Secretly he wished the boy would talk a little more, but that was just his impatience talking. He didn’t mind that Harley wasn’t open, as long as he and Harley were becoming actual friends. 

By the time they were at school, Peter had found his footing talking about different lighting settings on his camera, and Harley was listening eagerly. All fear about school seemed to be gone from the other boy's eyes as he paid attention to Peter. It made his heart race slightly to be listened to so attentively, but he didn’t mind the feeling.

He slipped out of the car, “And when you raise the iOS settings you can actually take photos of the stars- me and dad have a tradition of going out to this little lake house we have and stargazing. Of course- all photos need a touch up in post production, but thats just because you have too.”   
  
“Why do you have too?” Harley sounded genuinely curious, “Are the raw photos not bright enough?”   
  
“There are many layers to a photo, my young grasshopper,” Peter fake bowed, “If you come to yearbook club with me during our free period, I can totally show you what I mean.”   
  
Harley bit back a laugh, “I’m older than you.”   
  
“By a few months- besides you’re older, but I’m taller.”   
  
“By like an inch!”   
  
“Well, I’m gonna get taller,” He grinned, “It pisses my dad off, but my biological dad was like.. 6’4. My mom was 5’7. So best chance is that I’m gonna hit 6’0 at least.”   
  
“Lucky,” Harley offered a small smile, and Peter was relishing how he was getting those eyes to twinkle slightly, “My mom’s 5’2 and my dad was like.. 5’10. I’m 5’7 now and I haven’t grown any taller since last year.”   
  
“Oh poor little shorty!”   
  
“You’re only an inch taller than me, Peter.”   
  
“Yes, but I’m taller in spirit,” Peter grinned at him, widely, “I am a giant in spirit. Much bigger than any skyscrapers.”   
  
“Really?” Harley raised a brow, “Because I think you’re smaller than a fly caught in a Spider’s web.”   
  
Oh, if only Harley knew. He huffed pretending to be annoyed, “you’re mean.”   
  
“I’m not trying to be,” Harley got kinda quiet.

“No- no!” He rushed to reassure the other boy, “I was joking with you. I promise.”   
  
“Oh,” He relaxed again, and met Peter’s eyes, “Okay. Sorry.”   
  
“Don’t be…” he hesitated, “like I said earlier. I’ve got your back.”

He led Harley through the crowd, grinning at him over his shoulder occasionally. The other boy still looked nervous and pale but now he was a little more relaxed like he knew he could trust himself with Peter because Peter did have his back. The feeling made his heart swell. There was nothing more amazing than realizing that Harley Keener actually trusted him. 

There was a bit of a feeling of  _ wrong  _ in the bottom of his stomach. What would Harley have to fear in school? It was just… school. 

He stopped at their lockers, thankful his dad managed to get the school to snag the empty ones next to him to be Riri and Harley’s. He grinned next to him, “How are you feeling?”   
  
“Like shit,” Harley responded, opening the locker with shaking hands. He seemed to realize his words though because he pursed his lips, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. Knowing I’ve got… a friend… here with me really helps, I guess.”   
  
“I get it,” Peter nodded along to his words, “New schools can be scary. But trust me, you’re gonna love it here.”   
  
Harley just gave him a half hearted smile, then looked away, putting some of his books. Peter took the opportunity to hike up his sleeve and scribble down,  _ heya rose my love _ .

When he didn't get an imminent response he shifted to organize his own school bag, placing in the papers that he needed for the day and taking out all of the stuff he had been using to study that week. He was used to Rose not being as talkative during the school day, but he still missed and loved him more than anything else in the world. 

He finished, and turned to Harley, who was smiling into his sleeve, “Alright, our schedules are completely the same so… wanna head to first?”   
  
“Yeah,” Harley looked a lot more relaxed than he had been all day, “Lets go.”

  
  


_ cause honey i'll come get my things / but I can't let go -lorde, Green Light _

  
  


Harley woke up unable to breath again. 

For a minute he panicked, sinking into the feeling of air trapped in his lungs and the spluttering fear that he was submerged. For a moment he felt tears escape his eyes and he was sick. For a second he thought he was back in rosehill. 

Then the wave of post-nightmare panic passed and he jerked to his senses, forcing himself up, and flinging across the room. When he got to the light switch and turned it on, he immediately felt more relaxed. After all, that fear of being kept in the dark was only metaphorical. 

Slowly, with trembling hands he went back to his bed, picking up a pen from his bedside stand. For another minute he waited, debating what he should do. Finally he settled on an answer, because his breathing wasn’t getting any better and he needed to talk to the boy he loved more than anything in the world.

_ Solo? Are you here?  _ His cursive was so trembly he had to switch to print,  _ Please love, please be here.  _

He felt a surge of relief when his soulmate’s print joined just under his,  _ rose? whats wrong baby? _

_ I had a nightmare.  _

_ oh love do you wanna talk about it? _ _  
_ _  
_ Fear swelled in his chest,  _ no. Tell me abt something you love instead? _

_ of course, my love,  _ Solo paused for a second,  _ okay. so harry potter and draco malfoy right?  _

_ Right.  _

_ They should’ve been soulmates and ill go down in my grave saying this,  _ Harley felt his chest become less heavy with every curve of a letter,  _ its like. I get it that JKR- who sucks btw- wanted to make harrys soulmate connection to his two friends because yadda yadda love love right, but i still think harry shouldve ended up with draco as his soulmate because could you just imagine the pure chaos of that? And the love they must have for each other? They dont even have to be romantic soulmates they could be platonics or enemies and it still wouldve enriched the story. _

Harley sniffed, but the tears were drying up now,  _ This is just like your crack pot theory on why Luke and Han should’ve gotten together. _

_ Yes i know you remind me of that very often,  _ Solo paused again,  _ but i also think they shouldve been soulmates because i know you still read fanfiction over them and theres so very little good drarry fanfic in the world.  _

_ Are you being mean to me?  _ He felt his face flush, but he couldn’t deny the rush of affection he felt for Solo in that moment,  _ I cant believe you’re being mean to me! _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Well you see, my love, im the only one in the world allowed to be mean to you because i love you more than i could love anything else.  _

He traced over the word love with his finger before responding,  _ You’re a dork.  _

_ But im your dork.  _

_ Yeah, you’re my dork.  _

_ How are you feeling now?  _

He thought about the question,  _ a lot better. Thank you.  _

_ Of course. Now- hate to be a worry wart but have you eaten? _ _  
_ _  
_ _ I ate dinner?  _ He thought back to how he had just listened to Shuri, Riri, and Harry argue about the ethics of eating dinosaur shaped nuggets,  _ sort of.  _

_ Okay, well how about this. Go eat and tell me what you’re eating and then we can do something like tic tac toe. _

He stood, moving to put pants on before he responded,  _ i get bored of that game you know.  _

_ You lie. You’re never bored of me.  _

“You’re right Solo,” He whispered, letting all the fondness in the world creep into his voice, “I’ll never get bored of you.”   
  
He wrote down a quick response and pulled a sweatshirt over his head, pausing at his door to look at the clock. It was barely four am, meaning that no one else in the tower was awake at all. Meaning no one would judge him if he was jamming out to country music while making himself something to eat. 

Harley grinned and grabbed his headphones and his phone, pressing play on Dolly Parton's nine to five, and stumbled to the kitchen. 

He would deny it if Friday ever called him out on it, but he was dancing slightly to the beat of the song. It was just… one of those songs that never failed to make him happier than anything in the world. Back in the day, his entire family used to scream this song at the top of their lungs while they baked together. 

Something about it just made him feel relaxed. He spun, reaching for the top shelf where the cereal was kept, shaking his hips as he did. He flung the box on the counter and spun to the shelf, just jamming with himself. 

“Are you dancing?” He jumped, spinning on his heel to see Peter leaning on the door frame with a big smile on his face, “That's adorable.”   
  
He flushed, “I-” Quickly he paused his music and took out his headphones, “I didn’t think anyone else was up.”   
  
“I’m a bit of an insomniac,” Peter admitted coming into the room, “Late night snacks are just a part of that you know.”   
  
“Yeah,” Harley chewed at his bottom lip, “I do know.”    
  
The two of them studied each other, and all Harley could focus on was building his walls back up as fast as he could. It wasn’t an easy task because in the two weeks he’d been there, Peter had made him feel more relaxed and included than he ever was back at Rosehill. 

He watched as Peter’s eyes traced over his face. Peter’s brow furrowed, “Are you okay?”   
  
“Yes- yeah,” He swallowed, realizing he hadn’t wiped the tear tracks off his face, “Of course.”   
  
Harley could feel his heart slamming against his chest, and in the back of his mind he wondered how his heart was handling this sudden rush of adrenaline. Peter’s eyes softened, “How about this- you put the cereal up and we make ice cream sundaes and watch a movie?”   


“Um,” this was his chance. He had been doing good for the past two weeks, talking to people and making friends, and this was a chance to solidify himself as Peter’s friends. There was no way he wasn’t going to take it, “Yeah. That sounds perfect.”    
  
They both worked in silence, Peter making the ice cream sundaes and Harley cleaning up around them. There was something nice about being quiet with… a friend. He felt giddy, like he was walking in the clouds. He had a friend. And it was more than just Peter- it was Shuri, and Riri, and Flash, and Harry. He had friends. He had friends. And that was something that he’d never had before. 

They settled into the couch together, and both mutually agreed that they were in the mood to make fun of something. Honestly- it was less that Harley wanted to make fun of something and more that in that moment, whatever Peter wanted, he wanted too. Watching the Percy Jackson movie with someone that cared about you- someone that cared about you that didn’t  _ have  _ to care about you- was a surreal experience. 

His fingers were tingling, and his heart was still loud, and he finished his ice cream way too fast but none of that mattered. What mattered was that he was here, with a friend, having a good time. Slowly, he fell asleep to the sounds of Peter’s voice and a bad movie.

When the sunrise hit he woke up slightly to find that somewhere in the night peter and he had shifted to be cuddled together on the couch. Closing his eyes, he sank into the feeling of being held. He fell asleep with the knowledge he was safe. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you VERY much to Sarah for beta'ing this chapter, and I really hope you guys like it. 
> 
> Hit me up at Peachy-Keener on tumblr, or drop a comment down below!


	3. Tomorrow Never Came

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harley liked the way rain looked on the tower windows. Something about the droplets hitting the window made him feel safe and cozy. It helped that the tower was warm and smelled like cinnamon right now from a failed cooking experiment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so very much to Sarah for beta'ing this chapter! It means the world to me that you're so willing and down to help. This ones a big of a wild ride and tw for mentioned child abuse when Flash and Harley are talking.
> 
> Last Chapter: Harley made friends with people for the first time and expirenced the joy of opening up to said freinds.

_ hey what you thinking / penny for your thoughts -lana del rey, Tomorrow Never Came _

  
  


Peter poked at his dad's side, “Pay attention to me!”    
  
“Pay attention to yourself, Pete,” Tony grinned at him from where he was working on the spider-suit, “I thought you were messaging Rose?”   
  
“He had to go help with something,” He pouted, poking again, “And this is supposed to be our father son bonding time and you’re  _ ignoring me. _ ”

“You’re overdramatic today.”   
  
“I learnt it by watching you.”   
  
“Oh, did you now?”   
  
“Yep.”   
  
“Either way,” His dad gave him a pointed look, “You began the whole ignoring thing because you asked to hang out, then proceeded to message your Rose for a while.”   
  
“You say that like you don’t like Rose,” he pouted harder.

His dad shook his head and finally turned his full attention to him, “Well, you know I love your soulmate, so nice try buddy.”   
  
“Then pay attention to me!”   
  
“Jeez, jeez,” Tony reached over and gently flicked Peter’s forehead, “You make me wonder why I had kids, Peter.”   
  
“You took me in because you love me,” Peter rubbed at his forehead, “And you know that you would do it all over again to have a son as perfect and amazing as me.”   
  
There was a fond look in Tony’s eyes, “You’re absolutely right, I would.”   


“Speaking of soulmates,” He waggled his eyebrows at his dad, “Wanna talk about yours?”   
  
“Nope.”   
  
“Aw man- come on!”    
  
“Nope, kiddo. I’ll let you ramble about Rose, though.”   
  
“Dad,” He whined, “You promised me you’d reach out to yours when Rose-” he swallowed and skipped the next words, “And i wanna hear how that’s been going.”   
  
His dad had a guilty expression on his face and Peter sat up, eyes wide, “Dad!”

“Peter- now- son,” Tony rubbed the back of his neck, “It’s not that I didn’t want to write…it’s just that I haven’t yet.”   
  
Listen, Peter loved his dad. He adored his dad with all of his heart. This man raised him. This man helped teach him right from wrong. He taught Peter how to tie his shoes, and how to button his shirts, and how to do advanced quantum physics, and how to ride a bike. But there was nothing that he was more upset for than how his dad treated his soulmate. 

He frowned at him sharply, moving away from him, “That’s a dick move, dad.”   
  
“Peter-”   
  
“No!” He started to pace, speaking with his hands, “You promised me when I lost Rose that you would reach out to your soulmate because at least one of us deserves to know ours in person and you just haven't? It’s not fair for you too keep ignoring your soulmate, dad! It’s cruel- especially because of the fact that your soulmate has all your scars too- can you imagine how freaked out they must be?”   
  
“Yes, Peter, I can,” His dad's voice was quiet, “And that's exactly why I don’t want to reach out to them right now.”   
  
“Bullshit- you’re bullshitting me!”   
  
“Language, Peter Benjamin.”   
  
“Dad, I just don’t get it!” Peter whirled to face him, “You have a chance to be with someone who completes you- whether that's romantic or platonic or whatever- and you won’t go for it.”   
  
“I won’t go for it because I have a fifteen year old son to worry about instead,” Tony was firm and when he spoke he was gentle, “I would rather be here with you and help you than worry about myself.”   
  
Peter huffed and sat down next to him, “So what I’m hearing is you’re keeping yourself prolonged in misery.”

“Being soulmates with someone doesn’t mean you're instantly going to get along.”   
  
“You’re right, but still,” He ran a hand through his hair and looked at his dad, “Don’t you want the chance?”   
  
“I want the chance to watch you grow up and meet Rose,” Tony said simply, as if it was the most obvious choice in the world, “I want the chance to walk you down the aisle. I want the chance to have grandkids if that's what you and Rose want. I want the chance to see you happy.”   
  
Warmth surged through him, but he squashed it down with his foot, “You’re doing it again. You think that just because I’m your top priority doesn't mean that you can be happy- I just don’t understand why you’re sabotaging your own happiness, dad.”   
  
Peter froze as soon as the words left his mouth, and so did his dad. It wasn’t like what he was saying was untrue. He was being completely honest, but he was being overly cruel. He fought back a wince when he saw the look on his dad’s face.    
  
“I’m not sabotaging my own happiness,” Peter had never heard his dad sound so small and quiet, “My happiness is here. It’s with you, and it's with the kids we’ve brought in through the program, and I don’t need some stranger who I’ve talked to maybe five or six times in my life.”   
  
He opened his mouth to argue, but was cut off by a knock on the lab door. Both him and his dad looked up questioningly, as Friday hummed, “Harley wants entrance, boss.”   
  
“Let him in,” Tony cleared his throat and Peter wanted to cry at the mask his dad put on right then.    
  
“Hey,” Harley stepped in, and immediately, everything but the way Harley’s eyes were lined with red and the fact he was white as a sheet flew out of Peter’s head, “Um- I know you two told us not to work today- but- Flash and Harry are fighting,” He looked smaller by the second, “And I just…wanted to build.”   
  
Peter moved forward, “Of course, Harls.”   
  
“We can all build together if that will help?” his dad offered, “I mean, we’re already here designing for Spider-Man, might as well get his biggest fan’s opinion.”    
  
“Yes,” Harley colored again, and immediately looked more relaxed. Peter slung an arm over his shoulder and guided him towards the bench and was delighted to find that Harley no longer leaned away from his touch, but into it, “That sounds nice. And I’m not his  _ biggest  _ fan.”   
  
“Oh really?” Peter took a teasing tone, “That’s not what I heard you tell Flash.”   
  
“Well, that's because Flash thinks the webbing on his suit is white and on the entire suit, whereas I know for a fact that its gray and the blue parts of the suit don’t have the web design on it.”   
  
Tony laughed and exchanged a look with Peter, “Seems like Spider-Man’s biggest fan to me.”   
  
“I am not,” The longer they talked about Spider-Man, the more and more relaxed Harley became, “I haven’t even met him, yet.”   
  
“Yet.”   
  
“Dad, don’t make fun of Harley,” Peter grinned, “After all, he’s just waiting for Spider-Man to save him from the world.”   
  
“I hate you and I don’t know why I hang out with you.” The words were clearly a joke, but the second Harley said them he recoiled back like Peter was going to get mad at him, “I mean- I-”   
  
Peter cut him off, “Nice try Harls, but you can’t fool me. You love me best out of everyone you know.”

“Oh…totally,” Harley relaxed again and Peter fought back a huge smile, “Totally. It's totally not Shuri or Flash. It's totally you.”    
  
Their banter continued well into the building process of the suit and Peter relaxed against Harley and Harley relaxed against him. There was nothing better than a good friend who had your back and helped you come out of your shell, and Peter was glad he was that for Harley. 

Leaning into his side, he hummed, and began picking at the wires for his Spidey Suit. 

  
  


_ in the middle of the pouring rain / 'Cause I adored you -lana del rey, Tomorrow Never Came _

  
  


Harley liked the way rain looked on the tower windows. Something about the droplets hitting the window made him feel safe and cozy. It helped that the tower was warm and smelled like cinnamon right now from a failed cooking experiment. 

It was a really dark day, the kind of day his sister would have named gloomy, but Harley liked the way that the city looked in the rain. All the buildings were lit up, and the streetcars down below were more visible, and the sky was dark as the night despite it being only five in the afternoon. He leaned closer to the window, cataloging the sounds of the city in his mind. Even this high up, he could hear soft sirens and honks and if he tried hard enough he could imagine all the murmurs of conversation among people. 

Shuri had left for Wakanda that morning- her father required her diplomatic presence or something. Riri was currently hanging out with Shuri’s soulmate, MJ, and their girlfriend Liz. Peter and Tony were off doing something with Peter’s aunt May. Harry and Flash were probably cuddling or watching a movie. His mom was probably working the day shift right now and Abbie was probably drawing. 

It was a really wonderful feeling to know that even in all this rain, his friends and family were doing things they loved. 

Truly he just felt really content with everything in that moment. 

The world was stormy and gray but Harley felt so, so good with everything. Three weeks into the program and he just…felt like a brand new person. He kind of liked it. No, scratch that- he knew he liked it. He liked waking up in the mornings and not dreading getting out of bed. He liked going to breakfast and talking science with Shuri. He liked the easy-going chemistry between him and Flash. He liked that Peter was in every single class period he was in. He liked that he and Riri would make hypothetical Iron Man suits together. He liked that he and Harry could talk pop culture without being judged. He liked living life in a world where he had a group of people who cared about him more than anything. 

Of course he missed his mom's cooking and his sister’s laugh, but he didn’t miss Rosehill. He missed his family plenty, but he slowly found he was building a new family here. This amazing group of people who were helping him learn and grow and Harley just genuinely felt like this was the best time in his life. 

He snuggled more into his blanket and watched the skyline, counting the lightning flashes. 

“Harley?” Friday’s voice was slightly annoyed. 

“Yeah, Friday?” 

“Flash is sitting against the door of the roof. Harry is no longer in the building, opting instead to go to his penthouse down the street.” 

Harley jerked up, moving as quickly as he could, “Thanks Fri- don’t tell Flash I’m coming up.” 

“Will do, Harley.” 

He chewed at his bottom lip, running up the stairs. He paused before existing, breathing out shakily. Flash was one of his best friends. He had Flash’s back. 

He opened the door. 

It was evident to Harley that Flash and Harry had been fighting from the second that he saw the other boy. Flash's eyes were red with tears that he was struggling not to let over. He had clearly been pulling at his hair. His shirt was messed up like he had been tugging at the bottom of it. All things that only ever happened whenever they fought. 

“Go away, Harley,” Flash’s voice was an angry kind of rough, “I don’t wanna talk.” 

Harley swallowed, and stepped outside to lean against the brick, “Yes you do.” 

“No. I don’t.” 

“I know you do,” he said softly, “Because I know Friday wouldn’t have told me you were up here if you didn’t need me right now.” 

That broke Flash, and his angry tears overflowed. Harley didn’t hesitate to sit down next to the soaked boy and pull him into a tight hug. Flash pressed his face to Harley's shoulder and let out sob. 

They sat there in the pouring rain for half an hour. Harley just held the angry boy while he cried, and let him shout himself hoarse with sobs. When those sobs subsided, he slowly pulled back. 

“Come on. Let’s get inside okay?” 

Flash just nodded. 

Harley guided the other boy into the tower again, and brought him into his own room. He knew the last place Flash would wanna be right now was the room he and Harry shared. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He guided Flash into the bathroom linked to his room, gently offering him a towel. 

“It’s just- being soulmates is hard.” 

Harley nodded, “Especially because you and Harry have been together since you were five, right? Like- not romantic obviously, but still.” 

“Yeah,” Flash stripped out of his soaking wet shirt and Harley moved to grab him one of his own hoodies, “And it’s like- we only started being romantic soulmates this year and it’s just- we’re both just-“

Harley listened patiently, “Just?” 

“Do you…” Flash paused and met Harley's eyes in the mirror, eyes haunted, “Has Peter told you about middle school?” 

“No.”

“Well- I-“ Flash swallowed and put in the hoodie, and Harley took the cue to shimmy out of his own wet clothes and into dry pajamas, “I was angry.” 

“You’re still angry.” 

“No- Harley, this was bad.” He turned to face his friend, and Harley's heart dropped. Flash was crying again, “I was- something happened with my family and I lashed out really really hard. I…me and Peter and Harry have all known each other since we were babies but me and Peter used to be best friends. And- I bullied him.” 

Harley tried to keep the world under his feet, “You bullied him?” 

“He was the only person I felt safe lashing out at. I couldn’t- I couldn’t bring myself to hurt other people but I knew Peter would still love me even if I was a horrible person.” 

“So…you took advantage of that?” 

“No- that’s not,” Flash’s shoulders sagged, “Yeah. And Harry hated me. Except not really because he could see the bruises and- well- he knew something else was up. But it put a big strain on us.” 

He tried to imagine the feeling of being a bully, but he couldn’t, “How’d you fix it?” 

“I didn’t,” Flash looked away, “Peter’s uncle Ben did. He- he basically showed up at my house one day and asked me if I needed help. I broke down. He took me in and got me some therapy and slowly things mended.” 

“But that doesn’t change the fact you hurt Peter.” 

“Yeah,” Flash's eyes were sad, “But me and Peter are like brothers. We'll always be there for each other. It’s more like- I guess I get just as angry as I was back then and Harry just. He knows how to get under my skin, you know?” 

“But you love him right?” The question flew out of his lips before he could stop it. 

Flash nodded, “but soulmates are complicated.” 

“I mean,” He swallowed awkwardly, moving to pull Flash to his bed so they could sit, “Look at Shuri, MJ and Liz. That’s complicated, and it took them a long time to figure out where they all stood with each other. MJ knows she’s in love with Liz, and Liz and Shuri are Queer Platonics, and Shuri and MJ have Liz’s blessing to be with each other physically but not romantically. That’s complicated. But to me it seems like you and Harry love each other a lot, right?” 

“What does it matter if we love each other if every single day ends in another fight?” 

“Because,” He hesitates, “Because you know the way Harry likes his coffee. And Harry knows the way that you do your hair in the mornings even if he thinks it’s funny that you spend ten minutes on it. You always remember to get Harry's books from his lockers because he always somehow forgets and Harry always packs you a lunch every morning because he knows you spend it in the library. Harry always kisses you before he leaves a room, and you’re always studying his hands. You two- fighting is normal. Lots of couples fight. But you two have more than just a soulmate bond.” 

He took a breath, “A soulmate bond doesn’t mean love. My mom has never even  _ spoken  _ to her soulmate. So the fact that you two love each other more than anything in the world, even though you fight means something. Anyone can be soulmates, but you two decided to choose each other.” 

When Flash cried this time, Harley knew it was tears of joy and love for the boy he was connected to. He let his friend cry and sob, and held him tightly until he fell asleep from the tears. 

He wondered if he and Solo would fight like Harry and Flash did. Something told him they wouldn’t fight as often, but when they did it would be just as bad. It was strange to think about. He was in love with his soulmate- he loved Solo more than anything else in the entire world- but he had never met or seen him before. Back when they were kids they described each other. Solo was Italian and had brown hair and brown eyes and he used to have glasses before he got “contacts” and asked Harley to stop reminding him to grab his glasses every morning. 

Harley wasn’t scared of loving Solo. He knew that with time he would know all the small details that came with him being a person. For now, though, he was content to trace the letters on his wrist whenever they talked. The way each letter was a different size and he didn’t like writing ‘i’s as a capital. He loved the small details of his hand writing. He would love who he was as a person. 

It was slightly strange to think about how none of his friends knew his soulmate was a boy. It wasn’t like soulmates were a common topic among their friend group, but still. Ned had went on and on about his buttercup, and Betty had went on and on about her Eddy, and both of them were too stupid to see they were talking about each other. Flash and Harry were always writing on their arms in class because they loved each other and wanted to check up. Liz’s soulmate was a boy who was so glad that Liz was a ace lesbian because he was ace aro and was more than happy to just be platonic. Even MJ and Shuri had a system for their own soulmateship worked out. 

Peter of course, loved talking about his soulmate. It was one of Peter's favorite topics of conversations and if Harley was a better friend he would let him ramble a lot. But in all honesty he didn’t wanna know about Peter's soulmate because he was kind of embarrassed. They were both the only ones in their friend group who had never actually met their soulmates- because no matter what Ned and Betty insisted, Harley knew for a fact they were each other’s soulmates. 

These were people he loved though. People he trusted. People he adored. 

Why didn’t they know his soulmate was a guy?

It wasn’t…it wasn’t like they would be like the people from Rosehill. So why hadn’t he told them? 

His breath hitched. He’d never told anyone he was gay, is why. 

Of course his mom and sister knew. He talked about Solo a lot, and they both knew the bond was romantic. But he had never spoken the ‘g’ word out loud. Gay. He was gay. He was a massive, huge, boy loving, gay. 

“Harley?” Peter whispered, poking his head through the door, “I came back early when Friday told Flash and Harry got into a bad fight.” 

Harley jolted but didn’t move enough to disturb Flash, “I got him in dry clothes and got him to sleep.” 

“Is he okay?” 

“Not really,” He said softly, moving to go card a hand through Flash's hair soothingly, “He question what good being in love was if they always fought.” 

Peter winced, “You talked him down?” 

“Of course,” he looked up at Peter and the overwhelming feeling of safety rushed over him, “Sorry that you cut your time with aunt May.” 

Peter moved into the room and sat next to him on the bed, careful not to disturb flash, “She and dad were going through my baby albums. Really, this saved me.” 

“Well, glad me and Flash could be of assistance,” he laughed softly, “But I think he and Harry will be okay.” 

“They will be. They’re soulmates.” 

Soulmates. His soulmate was a boy. 

He looked at peter, and he remembered the small things about him. How Peter's eyes always sparkled when Harley smiled, and how he laughed too loudly at Harley's jokes. He remembered how safe Peter had made him feel ever since that first day. 

He took a breath, “Speaking of soulmates.” 

Peter smiled at him, and nodded, encouraging him to go on. 

“I’m gay,” his voice trembled, and he felt tears in his eyes, because wow- that was the first time he had told anyone he was gay, “And my soulmate’s a boy.” 

Peter’s eyes were soft and gentle, “yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded, and suddenly it felt like the heaviest weight in the world was lifted from his shoulders. He let out a stuttering breath and smiled wetly at Peter, “Yeah.” 

  
  


_ those lights are blinking / on that old jukebox -lana del rey, Tomorrow Never Came _

  
  


Peter loved summer. Summer was one of those times that just made him excited. Back in the day, summer used to mean his uncle Ben taking him, Flash, and Harry camping for a week and then spending every other day with dad and his friends. Summer nowadays meant that he’d spend a lot more time with his aunt May, and training with the avengers, and being  _ Spider-Man.  _ Which is absolutely just fantastic. 

Summer meant long nights of playing  _ never have I ever _ with Rose. Summer meant drawing competitions with his soulmate. Summer meant that he’d get to play with chemicals and hang out with his uncle Bruce. Summer meant Thor would let him ride his shoulders as he flew. Summer meant a lot of things- and Peter was especially excited for this summer. 

Because this summer, he got to spend it with Harley. And Riri, and Shuri, and Harry, and Flash, of course. It was all of them. Not just Harley. He wasn’t just excited to spend the summer with Harley. Because that would be favoritism and Peter didn’t play favorites. 

Peter burst out of the school doors on the last day, offering a big beam to his friend, “It's summer! It's summer and we're done for the year and we have two and a half months to do whatever we want!”   
  
“You seem excited,” Harley hummed softly, looking back at the school with fond eyes, “I for one am going to miss school.”    
  
“Harley- you monster,” He gasped dramatically and draped himself over the other boy, “School is the devil! School is hell! How could you!”   
  
“I don’t know, Peter,” Harley shoved him off slightly, a small smile on his face, “I loved that school. There's nothing better than a school that pushes limits.”    
  
Peter pouted at his friend, “We push limits all the time in the lab!”    
  
“Yeah, but we’re not doing actual science-”   
  
“-yes we are we’re writing it down-” 

“-okay but writing something down  _ does not  _ make it science, Peter!”    
  
“Yes it does!”    
  
“Who told you that?”   
  
“My dad!”    
  
“Case in point.”   
  
“You’re so mean,” He put a hand over his heart and offered the most kicked puppy look he could manage, “My dad and I are literal geniuses.”   
  
“All of your friends are,” Harley hesitated, and then said jokingly, “You’re not special.”   
  
Peter made the kicked puppy look even more pathetic, “Aren’t I?”   
  
“Nope,” his cheeks were pink, “You’re not special at all.”   
  
“Well- I never!”   
  
“You sound like my  _ mother  _ when you say that.”    
  
“Oh, you mean like,” He grinned, and mimicked Harley’s southern drawl, “Well I ain’t never saw a boy so rude and mean.”   
  
Harley laughed. And it wasn’t like Peter  _ hadn’t  _ heard Harley’s laugh before. He was actually quite skilled at drawing out the bubbly, soft, laughter that he associated with Harley. But this wasn’t soft or quiet. This was a full body laugh, where Harley was smiling and his eyes were blue, and God, it was beautiful. 

Peter wanted to make Harley laugh like that more, “Young man, what on earth are you laughing at! I am a very respectable Southern belle and you should respect me!”    
  
“Peter- Peter,” Harley put a hand on Peter’s arm, “Please. I’m begging you- never try to talk in a country accent again. Please.”   
  
“Oh come on,” he winked, “I’m charming.”    
  
“You’re about as charming as your  _ dad.” _ _  
_

“You know, considering his playboy reputation, I think that’s a huge compliment.”   
  
“I’m sorry, but we  _ both  _ have seen your dad try to flirt,” Harley gave him a pointed look, “That breakfast dinner. The one with the cute waiter. The one with the tattoos.”    
  
Nose wrinkling in disgust, Peter vividly remembered his dad's awkward flirting, “Okay, that's fair.” 

“Did you doubt me?”   
  
“No, but I do think I’m a much better flirt than my dad.”    
  
Harley looked him up and down, through those blonde lashes and Peter felt his heart jump, “Well, sure you are. If you count flirting as dorky puns.”    
  
His heart was in his throat. Logically he knew that Harley had not just checked him out but oh God, the feeling of Harley dragging those blue eyes up and down his entire body made Peter feel like he was on fire. Which was perfectly normal. This was a perfectly normal reaction to his friend looking him up and down. 

He did not feel anything more than he would if, say, Ned, had done the same. This was perfectly the same. 

God, he was a horrible soulmate.

“Peter?” Harley’s eyes were worried, “I was just making a joke- I didn’t mean to actually hurt your feelings- I wasn’t-”   
  
“No, no,” He shook his head, reaching out to pull Harley into a half hug, “You didn’t hurt my feelings. I was just thinking about something with my soulmate.”   
  
He breathed a sigh of relief when Harley relaxed, “Oh- do you wanna talk about it?”   
  
“Um…” he paused. What was he supposed to say, ‘sorry, Harley, I dont wanna talk about it because I’m thinking about how I’m a horrible soulmate because I think you’re  _ really  _ hot?’ No. He shook his head, “Nah- just usual soulmate stuff. I just wonder how he’s doing right now.”   
  
“Completely fair,” Harley hestated, like he usually did before speaking about his own soulmate, “I’m always thinking of my soulmate.”    
  
“You are?”    
  
“Oh yeah- he’s just…yeah. Everything.”   
  
Something warm settled in his chest, but he blinked it away, “Alright. Um- so…I know for a fact tha Shuri, Riri, MJ, and Liz, are going to Coney Island today, and I know Ned and Betty are all over each other right now and their going on a date, and I know that Flash and Harry are going to volunteer at that pound, so, instead of a dreary car ride home,” he paused for dramatic affect, “We ditched Happy and went and got ice cream instead.”    
  
“You had me at ice cream.”    
  
“Those were literally at the end of the sentence.”    
  
“It took you that long to get there.”    
  
Yeah, Peter thought happily, he loved summer.

He loved the sunshine in the city, and the way it lit up Harley’s hair, and the feeling of knowing that he was free to be with the people he cared about and do what he wanted. He loved summer. He loved everything about summer. 

  
  


_ on that side of paradise -lana del rey, Tomorrow Never Came _

  
  


_ Sorry, Solo,  _ he wrote quickly, chewing on his bottom lip,  _ I’m just a little busy these days. _

Solo took a moment to respond,  _ with what?????  _

_ I have new friends and they keep my pretty entertained,  _ he fought back a smile,  _ I haven’t told you about them because I wanted to make sure I could keep them around first but now that I know they’re not just gonna ditch me, I wanna tell you about all of them.  _

_ oh my god!!  _ Solo’s handwriting was happy, and bubbly, and he fought harder against that smile,  _ im so proud of you love!!!! thats fantastic im so proud of you _

_ I’m proud of me too.  _

_ i wanna hear all about them rose _

_ Well,  _ he felt that smile win against his lips,  _ there’s eight of them. I’m only gonna tell you about the ones I spend the most time with if thats okay?  _

_ of course it is!!  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ So the one I spend almost all day with we’ll call.. Space boy,  _ He loved Peter a lot- in the back of his mind, he wondered if Solo and Peter would get along,  _ because he’s about as into starwars as you are. He’s my best friend, besides you, honestly. He and I do this thing where we have a movie night if we cant sleep. He’s a real idiot sometimes, but he’s like… my idiot you know? _ _  
_

_ i know exactly what you mean,  _ Solo’s writing was quick, and he felt a surge of love in his heart,  _ i have friends like that but theres no way in the world that hes as into starwars as i am _

_ Sure, baby, whatever makes you feel better.  _ He tapped on his skin with the pen for a moment,  _ Then theres lightening bug. He’s a little mean sometimes, but he’s smart as a whip and funny as hell. Him and his soulmate are always fighting but Solo, I’ve never seen two people with more love in them than those two. _

_ until we meet of course _

_ Until we meet,  _ he considered,  _ and then there’s panther,  _ he laughed quietly at the name he had given Shuri. Panther. Black Panther. Wakanda. He was funny. He was so funny,  _ who’s ridiculously smart and easy going. I paint her nails a lot and we’re always ready and down to talk science when we can.  _

His soulmate drew a rose next to his words,  _ im so happy for you my love- this is fantastic _

_ I know,  _ he drew a heart next to love,  _ I never thought that I’d have this good of friends, ever. Like- it just never seemed like this could ever happen to me. And now it has and I’m just… really really happy. This is probably the best thing that’s ever happened to me.  _

_ you have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that _

_ I love you. _

_ i love you too.  _

He kissed the words softly, cheeks flushing,  _ Now I really do have to go. Do you wanna talk later tonight? _ _  
_ _  
_ _ always,  _ in his mind, he knew Solo was kissing the I love you’s just like he had,  _ see you in a few, my rose? _

_ See you on the other side  _

He flopped on his bed, grinning. Now Solo knew about his friends, and the next step was to tell him about New York. About the life he had been building here. About the life he was living. 

He was  _ happy.  _ He had never been happy like this before. This was everything he had ever wanted. He was in the same city as his soulmate, with a group of people that loved him, in a good spot, and he was happy. He was more than happy. 

This was the best experience of his life. Slowly he stood up, spinning around his room, and heading out to the common room. Today was another day where the tower was mostly empty- Riri had opted to visit home, and Flash and Harry were on a date. Shuri was talking to her brother in another room and wasn’t to be disturbed. 

Peter was the only one who could be harassed or bothered at the moment, so he grinned and knocked on his friend's door, “Peter?”   
  
“One sec Harls,” he opened the door after a moment, holding a dirty wipe, clearly having just cleared a conversation with his soulmate, “You look happy.”   
  
“Come on, dude,” He nudged the other to come with him, “Let’s go to the labs and watch a movie or something- I have an idea for a build I wanna make.”   
  
Peter’s eyes crinkled, “You’re always working- you know, you can watch a movie without having to make something.”    
  
“Maybe so, but that’s boring,” In the back of his mind, he wondered when he had relaxed enough around Peter to sass him, “It's much better to watch the first episode of Star Wars while trying to build your own lightsaber from scratch.” 

“Okay, that's valid,” Peter moved out of the room, leaning into Harley’s side, “Lets go, then.”    
  
He liked the way he fell into sync with Peter. Being friends with him was already fantastic, but the way that both of them operated on the same wavelength was amazing. If it were anyone else in the tower, they would’ve jokingly teased him for the lightsaber joke, but it  _ wasn’t  _ anyone else in the tower, it was  _ Peter.  _

And Peter just got him. Peter just understood. 

Peter had respected his boundaries from the very first day, and now that they were gone, he was glad to find that Peter still let him pull away when he needed to. Unlike Shuri or Flash that didn’t understand that he needed space sometimes, Peter did. Peter just…understood him. 

“The real question isn't about whether we can make a lightsaber though,” Peter babbled, “It’s how we find a real world replacement for a kyber crystal.”    
  
He shook his head, “We can’t- there's no real world equivalent to a kyber crystal.”    
  
“Right, but then how will we get it to work.”   
  
“Well,” He paused and thought, “What if we made it a controlled, powered, arc blast thats constant, giving the illusion of a lightsaber.”   
  
Peter paused and looked at him with wide eyes, “Harley Keener, if I was not saving myself for my soulmate I would kiss you because you are  _ brilliant  _ and you are literally the best person in the world- I cannot believe you just cracked a theory of lightsabers.”   
  
“We haven’t  _ tested  _ it yet,” He tried forcing his mind to shut the image of kissing Peter out of his mind because he was like Peter and was saving his first kiss for his soulmate, “So we don’t know if it works.” 

“Well we need to test it then! It’s going to be absolutely fantastic, Harley!”    
  
“You sound like the Ninth Doctor.”    
  
“Don’t knock Eccleston.”    
  
“I  _ wasn’t-”  _

“I’m serious, Harls, do not slander the good name of Eccleston!”    
  
“I was not slandering the good name of Eccleston! And you just like Nine because you like leather jackets!”   
  
“Okay,” Peter pointed at him, “First of all, you’re wrong, because I’m not just  _ into  _ leather jackets, I have a leather jacket.”    
  
“Oh what a _ bad boy _ -”   
  
“I am a bad boy!”    
  
“Peter you’re such a dweeb-”   
  
They slipped into easy banter, and to Harley it felt like coming home. 

  
  


_ honey don't ignore me / i just wanted it to be the same -lana del rey, Tomorrow Never Came _

  
  


There were some definite downsides to being Spider-Man.

For starters, sometimes he had to miss important things in order to fight bad guys. Like…Betty's first big play for the high school. Or a decathlon meeting. Or MJ’s poetry slam. Or his dad’s galas. Well- that last one he always wanted to miss. But being SpiderMman took away from a lot of things. 

Secondly, being Spider-Man was a bit of a time crunch. Sure, maybe during the summer he didn’t have to worry about the excuses he’d make for a school. No ‘sorry miss I had a really upset stomach’ or ‘my dad let me come home to grab a thing for another class’ or a ‘Flash literally ate my homework’ type of excuses for the summer, but that didn’t mean his schedule was any lighter than it was. 

And- what was the third thing again? 

He felt the Sandman slam him into a building, and heard a sickening crunch as his arm dislocated from his socket. Oh, yeah. That. 

He had super healing, sure, and that definitely helped him where it mattered, but it didn’t mean that he was just okay with getting  _ brutally beat up  _ on a daily basis. And it was never just a normal mugger or a normal robber- no it was always some supervillain tantrum throwing their tantrum of the week. 

And he could handle just the Sandman. But did the Sandman really have to team up with fucking Doc Ock, Green Goblin, Mysterio, and Electro? That was just…too much and he was going to scream. 

“This is the end of you, webslinger,” Goblin growled in his face, and he really thought about telling Harry to tell his father to invest in mouthwash. Like Jesus, it was  _ not  _ that hard to invest in dental hygiene, “This city will finally be rid of you.”    
  
“Wow, seems like you guys really put a hole in my web,” He coughed. It wasn’t his best joke, but he was also in very immense pain, “But you guys realize that you made a mistake here, right?”   
  
“What have we mistaken?” 

“You attacked me in Times Square, dumbass.”    
  
He watched each of them adopt a confused look on their face, as Peter looked up to the sky and grinned. Each and every one of the Avengers had been deployed. He thought, for a second, he heard Doc Oc say the fuck word, as Hulk ripped through the illusions of Beck and went straight for Fishbowl Head himself. 

His dad caught him, as the sand holding him in place fell, and he fell with it, “You’re grounded.”   
  
“What?” He blinked, “I literally didn’t do anything wrong!”    
  
“Nope- still grounded.”   
  
“Dad!”    
  
“You’re not allowed to handle more than two supervillains at a time, you know this.” 

“They jumped me,” He mumbled, pouting, pain throbbing through his body, “I didn’t know it was going to happen. And I knew when they attacked me in the square that Fri would hack a security camera and monitor it and send you in.”   
  
“You’re still grounded.”   
  
He sighed. That was the other downside of being Spider-Man. His dad was already overprotective enough before he got the power, but now that he had it he was like a man on a mission to make sure that Peter wasn’t throwing himself in danger. He tried to roll his shoulder, and whimpered, “You’re taking me to the med bay, right?”

“Yes,” His dad’s voice was tight. 

In the background, he thought he heard Sandman roar something about them being the unstoppable Sinister Six before Thor hit him in the face with a hammer. Really, it didn’t make sense. Sinister Six but only five of them showed up. It just felt like they were being lazy with their names. 

He blinked slowly. Maybe he was more drowsy and affected than he thought. The entire world seemed sluggish and weird at that moment. His arm was still searing in extremely intense pain and slowly, he registered that his breathing was just as messed up, meaning that he probably had gotten hit one too many times in the ribs. 

The cold metal of his dad’s suit was grounding, “Come on, kiddo, let’s get you out of the suit and into a hospital bed.”

“Course,” he mumbled, standing on his own, vision slightly blurry now that he was no longer experiencing extreme adrenaline, “course.”    
  
He let his dad press the spider on his chest, and he vaguely registered the hiss his father let out at the sight of his, no doubt, extremely bruised body. It was all just too painful. He needed a grounding point. 

He found one in the soft reds, pinks, and greens on his upper thighs. These were his first tattoo’s. He had gotten them for Rose. Something beautiful for a soulmate he thought was dead. But Rose wasn’t dead and now it stood as a reminder of their love. A mark they both had. A tattoo for their love. 

He loved Rose, he really did. He loved the loopy cursive handwriting, and how his words sometimes blended together when he was excited. He loved the way Rose talked about his new friends almost everyday because he loved them. He loved the way Rose would tell him about science and building. He loved the way Rose would talk to him so openly and honestly. 

He loved his Rose. 

He also really loved Harley. Harley was his best friend. It was amazing to witness how the boy had started to open up more than anyone else in the entire program. He loved watching Harley work on a project, hands strong and delicate, working with wires and metal and everything Harley loved. He loved the way Harley talked- both hesitant and eager, and just so so positive. 

He vaguely wondered where Harley was as he collapsed into the med room bed to sleep. Slowly he registered how Harley must be watching the fight from the balcony because he loved Spider-Man. 

The thought made him giggle. Harley loved Spider-Man and Peter was Spider-Man and that meant that Harley loved him. What an absolutely wonderful thought. Harley loving him. Wow- did Harley really love him? He must’ve. Because Peter was Spider-Man, and Harley was in love with Spider-Man. 

He blinked slowly. Something was weird about that statement. Harley wasn’t in love with Spider-Man, because he wasn’t in love with Peter. What a wonderful thought that he could be though. 

Peter fell asleep seconds after, and when he woke up hours later, he had no idea what he had thought before falling asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading! Send me a comment. Also- the next two chapters are pre written so expect them sooner than later. 
> 
> You can hit me up at Peachy-Keener on tumblr! Leave a comment!


	4. Its Nice To Have A Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If there was one thing he loved more than anything in the world, it was how good Harley was at being a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!! this is one of the p re written chapters!! i am on vacation right now, doing stuff with family and family friends!! I forgot how be a u t i f u l east coast states were. Its also _super_ weird to go to airports these days. No one was there and my family wore a mask full time!! we also flew on a literal almost death trap, i was TERRIFIED. 
> 
> sorry for so much of the update on my life, im just over excited!! 
> 
> Thanks to Ava and Sarah for beta'ing this chapter! You guys mean the world to me. Tw for anxiety attacks
> 
> Last Chapter: 
> 
> Harley learned what it meant to have a soulmate, and came out as gay to his best friend. Peter Parker fell asleep loving his best friend more than anything.

_ sun sinks down / no curfew -taylor swift, Its Nice To Have A Friend _

  
  


Harley loved the roof of the tower. He just loved the way you could see the entire city from one single point. It was also very peaceful. You could still hear the city noises from the roof, but they were quiet, and some nights, if he pictured it enough, he thought he could still see all the stars. 

Peter opened the door to the roof, “I thought I'd find you here.”    
  
“Yeah,” He said softly, looking out at the world around them, “It's beautiful right now.”    
  
“You're right…mind if I join you?”    
  
“Never.”    
  
Peter sat next to him, and Harley leaned into him. He felt Peter shift, and then Peter’s head found his shoulder, and he felt like he was flying. He loved that he and Peter were good enough friends that he didn’t set off any alarm bells whenever he touched him. It was just nice…knowing that Peter was there.    
  
They sat in silence for a few more moments, breathing in the sticky summer air, and watching the sun go down over the skyline. If he closed his eyes, and focused, all he could feel was the dying light on his face and the feeling or Peter's body pressed to his. This was nice. This moment was all he had ever wanted. It was wonderful, to have this. To have a friend with him. 

Slowly, Peter spoke, “You didn’t go home like the others.”    
  
“I didn’t really want to.”    
  
“But you miss your mom and your sister…”   
  
“Yeah but,” he hesitated, “I can always call them. And- well, it’s not like Harry and Flash went home either.”    
  
“They’re both not in the tower though.”    
  
“They’re with your aunt in Queens.” 

“Okay,” Peter conceded, “You may have a bit of a point. But you’ve spent the entire time you’ve been here missing them. I still don’t get why you didn’t go back.”    
  
He hesitated, “I…it’s a bit of a story.”   
  
“I always wanna hear you talk.”    
  
Peter was good like that. Peter didn’t care that he hadn’t gone home for a week like the others, he just liked spending time with Harley. Deep down, he knew that Peter was only even asking this because he knew that Harley had been missing his mom and sister forever now and was worried. 

“Well,” He wasn’t going to tell Peter about Rosehill, “I don’t talk about my soulmate too much, yeah?”    
  
“Yeah.”   
  
“He lives in queens,” Harley's heart was pounding in his own ears, “And I guess it just makes me feel closer- safer- if I’m here. Its like- I don’t know. Its just nice to know that he’s there. He’s thirty five minutes away.”    
  
Peter looked at him with wide eyes, “So- are you two talking about meeting?”

He got quiet and looked out on the Horizon. It’s not like he hadn’t thought about it. He knew approximately where Solo lived, and he knew that he could get there in a very short amount of time. But he was scared. He was terrified of meeting his soulmate and Solo realizing his not worth it. That he wasn’t worth it. 

He shook his head, “No- I uh- It’s just-” He went silent, then pressed his palms to his eyes, “He doesn’t know I’m in New York.”    
  
“Oh,” Harley could feel the confusion in Peter’s voice, “Why not?”    
  
“I can’t-” He struggled to swallow down air, “I don’t want to meet him yet.”   
  
He felt Peter’s warm hands on his back, “Hey- hey, its okay. I’d never judge you for that. I’ve got you. Its okay.”   
  
Harley struggled to remember the breathing tricks that is mother had taught him. Five-four-three-two-one, in. One-two-three-four-five, out. Repeat until okay. Repeat until calm. Repeat until breathing. 

He leaned into Peter’s hands and slowly let himself relax, still shaking, “My soulmate doesn’t know that I’m in New York because I can’t meet him until I’m good enough.”    
  
“What?” Peter made a sound like he’d been shot, “Harley- what?”   
  
“I’m not good enough for him- you- you wouldn’t get it because you’re  _ you  _ but some of us are just,” He picked at his wrist, then scolded himself, and fiddled with his sleeve, “Some of us are just not good enough for their soulmates. He’s this ball of pure joy and amazingness, and I’m me. I just… I want to make him proud.”    
  
Peter’s hands were making circles on his back, “You will make him proud. Harley- you’re brilliant.”   
  
“Yeah but-” Harley looked at Peter, the gold light glittering on their skin, “When the intern program ends, we get a chance to actually be a real intern for Stark Industries. And- and if I get that, he’d be- he’d be so so proud of me. He’d be- he’d be happy. Because it meant he didn’t have to worry about me or think i was just gonna do nothing with my life like how I was gonna do in Rosehill.”    
  
“You’re getting that internship,” Peter told him firmly, and Harley could’ve looked at him in the sunshine forever, “Everyone here- if they want it they can take it. Harley- your soulmate will always be proud of you.”    
  
He almost told him. He almost confessed to Peter everything that he’d done. He almost told peter about how fucked up he was. About how he had ruined his soulmate because of one stupid thing. About how his heart had failed. About how his soulmate had to go three months without him. He almost told Peter his biggest shames and secrets. 

But he didn’t. How could he? It wasn’t like he was proud of it- and if someone as wonderful as Peter saw everything that had happened to him, then… he couldn’t stomach the idea. Peter would hate him or think he was weak or think he was stupid.   
  
It was a miracle Solo didn’t think that. He wanted to bawl. He wanted to scream or cry. He wanted to confess. He was a sinner at church again and he had to walk down the aisle to his pew knowing that the entire town knew he was more sinner than saint. 

He couldn’t tell Peter. No matter how much he loved or trusted him, he couldn’t tell Peter. It wasn’t worth the heart break. It wasn’t worth the pain. It wasn’t worth any of it. If he told Peter he was like this…

Would Peter kick him out of the program?   
  
“Penny for your thoughts?” his friend’s soft voice whispered to him. 

No. Peter wouldn’t. Peter was his best friend. Peter would never think he was bad or stupid or awful. These were all just bad thoughts in his head, and it wasn’t real. Because Peter was real. The way Peter made him feel appreciated and loved, and known. That was real. 

“Just,” He swallowed, and then smiled, “Thanks.”   
  
Peter didn’t ask him what he was saying thanks for. He just turned to watch the sunset, head on Harley’s shoulder. It was nice. 

  
  


_ you've been stressed out lately / yeah, me too -taylor swift, It's Nice to Have a Friend _

  
  


There were very few things that Peter couldn’t do. He couldn’t cook. He couldn’t drive. He couldn’t do long division on paper. He couldn’t do rhetorical analysis ever. And it seemed, that now, he couldn’t sop worrying. 

It wasn’t that he even had anything to be worried about. He knew for a fact that everything the avengers where doing was very routine and it was so unlikely that his father would get hurt. It wasn’t going to be anything other than the standard and usual, ‘go to a hydra base, clean it out, make sure everything's safe and sound.’ and they had done those a thousand times before.

It was just… the last time they went to a hydra base they had been attacked by a masked stranger with a metal arm that Natasha had referred to as the Winter Soldier. The winter soldier. The man who had killed Howard and Nona Maria. The Winder fucking Soldier. The Winter soldier! 

What if the soldier just… finished off the Stark's? What if he decided that just Howard and Nona weren’t enough, no, he needed to kill Tony too? What if? What  _ if?  _

He shouldn’t go down what if roads. He knew that. He knew he shouldn’t go down what if roads. The what if roads always led to very very bad places and usually that ended with Peter on the floor in a panic attack, and he really couldn’t afford that right now. 

Before they had left, his dad had told him he needed to keep a watch on all of the other teens in the program. No particular reason, but no one was allowed in or out of the tower tonight. His dad didn’t say why but secretly Peter knew that Tony was always worried about the tower getting attacked at some point, and he wanted them all in one place just in case. It was like this every single mission. 

He breathed out. Okay. Okay. He was being stupid. His dad would be fine. His dad would be fine and all the Avengers would come back just fine. 

God why couldn’t he get his gut to stop rolling?    
  
He picked up a pen,  _ rose?? are you awake??? _

Peter could’ve cried when there was no response. His eyes never left his arm for five minutes, and when there was no response he wanted to cry so badly that he could feel the pressure of tears build up directly behind his eyes. 

_ sleep well, rose my love _ , is all he said instead. 

It did make sense that rose was asleep. His soulmate had made it clear to Peter that he wanted to get his sleeping track a little better, and Peter was one hundred percent on board with that. And it wasn’t like they didn’t still talk late until the night, just that he would end up going to sleep sometime after Peter patrolled and that was fine. 

He stood up. He needed company right now because if he didn’t have someone he was going to panic and he didn’t want to panic, he had been so good at not panicking since the internship program started. He just- he was just worried about something stupid that he definitely didn’t need to be worried about. That just- it was stupid to be worried about something that he shouldn’t be worried about because the chances of it happening were so low.

Tears welled up in his eyes but he wouldn’t let them overflow. 

Peter padded his way through the hallways, hesitating at the door of his friend. Harley wouldn’t mind waking up right?    
  
Hesitating, he opened the door. Harley was curled into his bed, fast asleep, looking like sleeping beauty. Peter slipped into the room and gently tapped on his arm, “Harls?”   
  
“Hm?” The boy was still asleep, “Hmf.”    
  
“Harley,” He said a little louder, “Are you awake?”   
  
Harley blinked, eyes unfocused, then he looked at Peter, “Peter?”  
  
“Yeah- I-” He swallowed down the heat in the throat because he was not going to cry, “I need a friend.”    
  
If there was one thing he loved more than anything in the world, it was how good Harley was at being a friend. As quickly as he said the words Harley had leaned over to his lamp, turned on the light and pulled Peter into his arms. 

That almost broke him, but he was still determined not to cry. Instead, he shifted so he was more in Harley’s lap than his arms and pressed his face into the blonde’s hair, breathing him in.    
  
Another thing he loved about Harley was that the other boy didn’t ask questions. He didn’t make Peter answer things he wasn’t ready to answer. He didn’t let the other boy apologize or speak or do anything but relax in the warmth of his arms. Harley somehow knew exactly what Peter needed, and was willing to give him it with open arms. 

He took a few minutes to just relish the feeling of being held, and then he pulled away, pressing his forehead to Harley’s, “I just-”   
  
“You don’t need to say anything,” Harley’s hands found the back of his neck, rubbing soft circles into the skin, and Peter loved him for the grounding touch, “I don’t need to know if you don’t want me too.”    
  
Peter loved this boy so much- Harley was the best friend he had ever had, “Thank you.”   
  
“You don’t need to thank me either,” He shifted and moved to pull Peter closer, “How about this? We stay like this for awhile and then we go into the other room and bake some cookies. How does that sound?”   
  
“Yeah,” His voice broke, “That sounds really really nice.”    
  
Harley’s arms tightened around him, and he once again shifted to press his face into the blonde curls. 

No one in the world understood him like Harley did. Harley just always knew the right thing to say to him, the thing that would make him relax and come undone and be happy. Harley knew just what to do and what to say, and he knew exactly what Peter needed. 

He breathed him in, “I’m sorry.”   
  
“Don’t be,” Harley whispered against his throat, “I know how it feels. You once told me you’ve got my back. Well I’ve got yours too.”    
  
Tears spilled out of his eyes, but these ones weren’t from panic. 

Slowly, they de-tangled. Harley took the lead, his warm and soft hand clasping Peter’s and gently guiding him away from the room. Peter marveled at how Harley’s hands could be so soft when Peter knew for a fact that he worked with machines all day. He was grateful for it anyhow, leaning into the way that Harley’s fingers tapped against his knuckles and he dragged him. 

They entered the kitchen in silence, because Harley seemed to understand that Peter didn’t want loud right now. He didn’t want loud or angry or energy. He liked the way things were right now, blanketed in sleep and darkness. It felt right to be this quiet in the wake of his mini panic.

Peter swallowed, voice barley a whisper, “We have chocolate chips.”   
  
“Thats perfect,” Harley whispered back, “Do you want me to make them and you watch or do you want to help?”   
  
He thought about it. He wanted to watch Harley work. Watching Harley work was one of his favorite hobbies these days. It made him feel like he was close to his friend to notice the way that Harley bit his lip as he thought, or how Harley’s brow furrowed just so when faced with something he didn’t know how to do. He slowly held up a one.    
  
Harley didn’t need to ask him what he meant, instead opting to squeeze Peter’s hand gently and pull away. Peter mourned the contact. 

Slowly, Harley started working. He pulled out the butter, the sugar, the flour, the eggs, the salt, and the chocolate chips. Peter watched him work, marveling in the comfort of being with a friend. Harley started by beating the butter and sugar together, and all Peter’s mind was on was him. 

When his dad and he had first picked up Harley from the airport he had been worried about the kid. He was nervous. Skittish. Like a scared animal. He actively flinched away from Peter, and he didn’t like his space or privacy being invaded. He was a kid who had been hurt. 

But now, Harley had grown. Harley seemed to become so much healthier. Like a cat taken off the streets, he was starting to show signs of becoming okay. Peter fought back the smile at the image of Harley with cat ears and a tail, left out in the rain. 

It wasn’t just that Harley had grown. Those dark circles under his eyes had almost completely disappeared from sight. The paleness of his skin was replaced with a nice healthy tan, highlighting the soft flushes that Harley would get any time he got flustered. Peter hadn’t even realized it at the time, but when they had met, Harley’s hair had been short and lifeless, but now the gold curls where being grown up and looked so much more vibrant. 

The physical toll all that anxiousness and trauma he had clearly been through was almost gone, and Peter loved that. He adored that he had helped this wonderful, amazing, boy grow and become the person he was always meant to be. 

Harley was folding in the chocolate chis now, and Peter was feeling at peace. No left over anxiety, just fondness. It took him a second to realize, but Harley was humming something soothing under his breath. The song sounded like a country song, and if Peter was more awake he would be making fun of his friends taste in music. 

For now, though, he let himself relax on the counter top and rested his head on the cabinet. 

“There now,” Harley said softly, accent thicker that Peter had heard it in awhile, “There we go. Dough's all done- do you want a taste?”   
  
Peter grinned, “Yeah. I do.”    
  
Harley handed him a spoonful, and reached past him to open the cabinet door, pulling out a metal sheet pan. As peter ate his portion of dough, Harley balled the rest up into tiny parts and slowly, the tray was filled. He watched as Harley turned to the oven- he hadn’t remembered Harley preheating it, but it was preheated- and placed the tray in. 

“C’mere,” Harley held out his hands. 

“Okay,” he whispered, placing the spoon down and going to Harley’s side, “Here.”   
  
He wrapped his arms around Peter, holding him tightly, “I’ve always got you.”    
  
Peter melted into the touch, arms coming to wrap back around him. This is what friendship was, he thought, slowly, this feeling of knowing someone so completely that you're always safe with the. He was always safe with Harley and the other boy somehow calmed down every single one of his anxieties. 

Without even speaking a word about what was troubling him, Harley Keener had managed to clam down Peter within moments. 

The smell of cookies filled the air by the time they parted, and soon enough they were curled up on a couch, watching some movie Harley put on, eating cookies and milk. All thoughts about ‘what ifs’ out of his mind. Just him and Harley. It was always just him and Harley. 

_ twenty questions / we tell the truth -taylor swift, It's Nice to Have a Friend _

  
  


Harley liked working in the lab. Normally, working in the lab meant the chaos of Shuri and Peter and Riri and Flash all working together to burn down the world. And he loved that- he loved the fact that all of them had become close enough that they could read each other and know whether it’d be a serious work day or a silly goof off kind of work day. He also loved the kind of day in the lab where it was just him and one other person. 

It was usually him and Peter, because of how late they both worked, but today Peter was hanging out with his aunt. Shuri, Riri, and Flash had all made their way down to the lobby because they wanted to go to a cafe Riri found down the street. Right now, it was just him and Mr. Stark in the lab. 

He bit his tongue, fingers fumbling over the minute and delicate details of his new spider-robot, Miss Muffet. It was always fun to work with his constantly updating Spider bot, because it meant he was a step closer to meeting his soulmate, even if it was in a mask. 

Harley wasn’t afraid to admit that he slipped into daydream mode. 

Something about the image of his brave superhero soulmate made him dream about all the possibilities. Dates swinging through New York City, or having a picnic on top of buildings, or Harley making his own version of an iron man suit and them becoming a super duo. 

He was mid thought in a daydream about his Solo saving him from a scary life or death experience and kissing him, when Mr. Stark cleared his throat, “hey, Harley, do you have a second to talk?”   
  
“Uh-” He jumped, flushing and crossing his wires on accent. He frowned at the bot, “yeah, of course. Whats uh- whats up?”   
  
“Well…” Mr Stark turned to face him fully, “I wanted to talk about some things.”    
  
“Um… what about?”   
  
“Harley,” He leaned forward, lips pursed, “I love how much you’ve grown in the time you’ve been here.”    
  
Dread swooped through his stomach. What if- what if tony had decided to kick Harley out? What had he done wrong? Had he built something wrong? Had he been too anxious and annoying? Had the others complained about him?? Had  _ Peter  _ said something?? What’d he do wrong-   
  
“Breath, Harley,” Mr. Stark’s voice was soft, “You’re okay. You’re in the lab with me.”    


He chewed at his bottom lip as hard as he could, “Did I do something wrong?”   
  
“No, kiddo,” That soft tone of voice remained prevalent, “You didn’t do anything wrong. In fact- I think you’ve done a lot of things right since you came here. I remember the first week you were here you avoided everyone except Shuri, and even then, you flinched away from her, too. And now you regularly make jokes, talk to them, and lean into their touches. You’ve done nothing wrong. But I do wanna talk about the state you were in when you got here.”    
  
“I-” His mind raced, “My moms not abusive if that's what you’re thinking. She’s literally the sweetest person in the world, and she actually pushed me to apply for this program because she knew that I needed it. So don’t- don’t say anything about my mom.”   
  
Mr. Stark blinked, “Uh, no. I wasn’t going to say anything about your mom. I didn’t really think she had done anything anyway, she seemed too nice the first time we met. No- but I was wondering if you wanted to open up why you were so afraid of everyone when you first got here?”   
  
His mind was still racing. He didn’t know what he could say. ‘Oh yeah, ignore the fact that I flinch away form people my age, the bullying was never that bad and it totally didn’t lead to me being-’ 

He shook that thought away, “I… I’m from the south, I guess. I’m a smart mouth, genius, from the south. You guess.”   
  
“Yeah, I figured it was something like that,” Harley felt sick about lying, “I’m guessing being gay didn’t help either.”

Harley flinched. He didn’t mean too, but he did, “I’m not- you’re wrong- I’m not a f-” He couldn’t say the word, and that gave him away. He sagged, “Was it Peter? Did Peter tell you- I- he’s the only person who know’s so he had to have told you- and I- I-”   
  
Mr. Stark moved forward, placing a calming hand on his shoulder, “Peter would never betray your trust like that. He didn’t tell me. I figured it out on my own.”    
  
“How?” His voice was scratchy, and he was trembling, “How’d you find out?”   
  
“Because I know the look in your eyes. I’ve seen it in the mirror before. Its hard liking boys in a place you can’t.”   
  
“Yeah.”   
  
“We don’t have to talk about that if you don’t want,” Mr Stark was gentle, and Harley saw where Peter got his kindness from, “I just want to know a few things, okay?”   
  
“Okay,” He hesitated, “Don’t tell anyone else. I’m just- not ready for the world to know.”   
  
Mr. Stark nodded, “Of course. Now- I just wanna know. Where you bullied?”   
  
“I-” Fear flashed through him like ice, but he breathed. He had Peter and Shuri and Flash in his corner now, “Yes.”    
  
“How bad was it?”   
  
“You do that math.”   
  
“Okay,” Mr. Stark hesitated, “I’m going to ask you something incredibly personal and you’re no way obliged to answer.”   
  
He just nodded, so Mr. Stark continued- but seemed to change his mind on what to ask last minute, “Have you ever been in therapy for this?”   
  
“No. Mom wanted to send me for a long time but- you’ve read my medical file, right?”    
  
“Your heart condition? I know about that. Not much else though. I really don’t like reading into other peoples medical histories.”    
  
“Well,” He pressed a hand to his heart, “I have a tear in three places in my heart, and a weak valve. To every doctor who’s looked at it, I’m a medical miracle. One of them said it was the worst heart they’d seen since yours and yours has  _ shrapnel _ in it,” Harley didn’t miss how Mr. Stark tensed and relaxed in milliseconds, “This kind of thing is expensive. And- when my dad left her, my mom was broke. He cleaned out all of their bank accounts and took a mortgage on the house then gambled that away.”   
  
Mr. Stark went tense again, “Her own soulmate did that?”   
  
“Jack vVncent wasn’t her soulmate,” Harley’s words came out sharp, “My mom’s never talked to her soulmate. Thinks she doesn't deserve him. Thinks that he won’t want her.”   
  
“Okay,” and now Harley was also seeing where Peter got his protectiveness, “Is there anything I can do?”   
  
He hesitated, “Shes looking to moving in the city at the end of next year. Maybe you could write her a reference or something?” 

“Of course,” Mr. Stark nodded and Harley knew deep down that this man would do anything to help Harley and his family, “Of course. But, I have a question for you now. You’re  _ allowed  _ to say no. You’re allowed to not want this. Okay?”   
  
Harley nodded, hands fidgeting with his sleeve, “Okay.”    
  
“Do you wanna start therapy?”   
  
That wasn’t the question he’d been expecting, and he guessed that showed in his face because Mr. Stark elaborated, “I would pay for it. You’d go to the initial meeting and you’d get to decide how long you wanted it to go on, or what you wanted it to be like. You set the pace. But you need more than just a good support system. If the bullying was really severe enough that you were afraid of people your own age for a bit, then I want you to get professional counseling too. Okay?”   
  
The thought ran through his head, “And this… therapist… wouldn’t tell you anything?”   
  
“No. Everything stays between you and them unless its a harm to others.”   
  
So he’d have all his secrets safe, away from people, away from Peter, and Solo. He blinked. Solo. His soulmate would be so ecstatic to learn that he’d been getting help. 

His breath hitched. If Harley got helped he’d finally be good enough to meet Solo. To be with him. To be with the boy that he loved more than anything else in the world. He would finally have the chance to prove to himself that he didn’t exist to just hurt Solo. He would finally be normal and well adjusted and good enough for his wonderful and kind soulmate.

Even more than that, he’d get to show his friends and family how much better he was going. Maybe it’d get him to stop second guessing himself and all his friends. Maybe it’d get him to be another normal kid, not faced with fear of day to day life or being hurt by anyone. He’d get to be normal. He wouldn’t be a traumatized teen anymore. He’d be a good kid. He’d be okay. He’d get to share that okay with his friends. He’d get to show all of them how much he had grown. 

“Yes,” He whispered, grin spreading on his lips, “Yes. Just- one condition.”   
  
Mr. Stark blinked like he wasn’t expecting it to be that easy, “Of course- anything.”   
  
“No one but you and me know,” His voice was firmer than he had ever remembered it being, “I don’t want anyone to know. Peter, Shuri, Flash, Harry, Riri- none of them get to know. I don’t want anyone to know I’m in therapy. But yes- yes. I wanna go to therapy.”   
  
“Alright,” Tony nodded, “Okay. Then I’ll schedule a meeting sometime in the next week, okay?”   
  
Harley nodded, and felt pride bubble up inside him. He was going to be okay. He was finally going to heal. 

  
  


_ it's nice to have a friend -taylor swift, It's Nice to Have a Friend _

  
  


The bottle landed on Peter and he huffed, “Fine- fine, Truth.”    
  
“You’re so boring,” Flash complained, sprawled out with his head on Harry’s lap, “You could at least  _ try  _ to be interesting, Peter!”    
  
“You know what?” He huffed, sticking his tongue out at all the friends around him, “Fuck you guys! You’re giving dares like flush your foot down the toilet, or give Bruce a wedgie, or prank call Pepper, and I don’t  _ want  _ to die!”    
  
Harley nudged his shoulder, “Ms. Potts thought it was funny, at least.”   
  
“She did  _ not,”  _ he nudged Harley back, “She just thinks you’re adorable and she likes you best out of the interns.”   
  
“That's offensive,” Harry made a hurt noise, “Me and Pepper are really close!”    
  
“She still likes Harley best- she sees herself in him, you know.”   
  
“Will you stop that,” Harley rolled his eyes at Peter again, huffing, “You know, just because both of us grew up poor with single mothers, a younger sister, and a taste for the cut throat world of business does not mean she sees herself in me.”   
  
Shuri stuck her tongue out at Harley, “You doth protest too much.”   
  
“Alright, who showed Shuri the Romeo and Juliet movie with Clair Danes in it?”   
  
Riri held up her hand, “She’s really pretty!” 

“Whatever you say, Ri,” Peter huffed, “Now, Seriously, my answer is truth.”

“Fine,” Flash groaned, “Okay um… tell the penis story.”    
  
“Thats not a truth and I’m not doing that!”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Harley made a ‘T’ with his hands, “What’s the Penis story.”    
  
Harry grinned, “Hot glue, an orea, a marble, and five year old Peter’s very stupid brain.”   
  
The entire room went quiet for exactly one second, before all of his freinds broke out in loud laughter. Peter flushed hard, “You guys are dicks.”   
  
“Oh are we now? Whats wrong with  _ your  _ dick, Petey?”   
  
“Shut up Flash!”    
  
“Okay, okay,” Harley interrupted the two of them, leaning into Peter’s space, “Flash you have to actually ask a question. Or else the game is video and null.” 

Flash sat up, “Okay, fine, meanie,” he stuck his tongue out at Harley, “Fine…. Hmm.. okay, I’ve got it. If you had to kiss anyone in this room, who would it be?”   
  
Peter froze, a flush creeping up his face. For the last week he’d been fighting back the small voice in his head telling him to kiss Harley, and now Flash was asking him  _ this?  _ Was god himself working against Peter? Was the Parker luck striking him down in his good, pure youth?    
  
“Well,” he pretended to think, “I don't know. I’d make out with harry, but are we talking soft kisses or deep?”   
  
“Soft, deep, sexy. Go.”   
  
“Okay, so, there's a ranking. I’d soft kiss Harley because he’s Harley, I’d kiss Riri deeply because it’d be weirder with Shuri, and I’d sexy kiss Harry.”   
  
“Thank’s, babe,” Harry winked at him, “I’d sexy kiss you too.”   
  
Flash poked his boyfriends side, “But you would rather sexy kiss me right?” 

“Yep,” he leaned down, kissing over his face, “Obviously.” 

“Gross,” Shuri gagged, “Okay- Peter, it’s your turn to spin the bottle.” 

He groaned, but obliged. He didn’t know why he was playing this game anyway. If it were up to him what this rag tag bunch did on their days off, he and Harley would be playing Mario Cart and they would be happy and everyone would be watching and placing bets on which one would win, then the winner would face the next champion. But no- here they were, playing truth or dare spin the bottle addition. The bottle swung and swung and swung and landed on Harry. 

“Okay- you know the name of the game.”   
  
“Okay um,” Harry grinned at the crowd, “Give me the worst dare you can.”    
  
He paused, “Are you sure about that?”   
  
“Yep. Worst one, Peter.”   
  
“Alright,” he said slowly, wracking his brain for an idea, “Okay. If Flash is okay with it, go on a date with that one super-fan of yours that goes to our school.”    
  
The room burst into laughter and jeers at the mention of Harry’s super stalker fan who had got into midtown just to harass Harry and Flash. Riri and Shuri were laughing, Flash was half laughing half shrieking, and Harry had the most horrified look on his face. Harley just smiled and patted Peters shoulder. 

“I have her number from English class,” Peter laughed because of course Harley did, “So…”   
  
He held out his phone, and Harry snatched it, grumbling, “If I get kidnapped and die and everything is taken from me, I’m going to murder Peter.”    
  
“You won’t,” Flash’s hands trailed up Harry’s side, humming, “Because Peter never specified what kind of date. Just say you need a double date partner and bring me as your date. Duh.”   
  
“Sometimes I forget that you’re a Slytherin,” Peter pointed at Flash, “And then you do things like that.”    
  
Harley huffed, leaning into his space, “Flash isn’t the only Slytherin in the room!”    
  
“Okay, okay,” Riri called, “Only one way to sort this-” Peter laughed at the pun, but everyone else just groaned, “-whats everyone's house?”   
  
Peter blinked, “I’m huff.”   
  
“Ditto,” Harry was still looking at Flash with fond eyes.   
  
“I’m a gryff,” Riri hummed, thinking, “But I could probably be Ravenclaw, too.” 

“I’m Sytherin.”   
  
“Same.”   
  
“So three Slytherin’s,” Harley motioned to Shuri, Flash, and himself, “Versus two puffs and one gryff.”    
  
He leaned to rest his head on Harley’s shoulder, “Terrible to be outnumbered.”   
  
“I’m literally the most outnumbered here!”    
  
“No one asked you Riri!” 

The chatter continued but Peter drowned it out. His eyes were on the way that Harley’s jaw sloped when he was talking. The adams apple on his neck. The freckles everywhere. His friend was really really very pretty. 

He had been looking even healthier and healthier since the beginning of summer- and it was a really good look on him. Especially the past two weeks. He’d just been doing so so well, and that made Peter’s chest spark with joy. 

He was an idiot for zoning out with these heathens in truth or dare. 

“Okay, Harley,” Peter glanced at Harry, then to the bottle, because yeah, it was pointing to Harley, “Kiss the person on your right.”   
  
Peter frozen. Harley froze. Peter was too his right. Harley bit his lip, “Harry-”   
  
“Nope,” Harry pointed at him, “You said dare, that’s your dare.”   
  
A small panic rose up in Peter’s chest. Harley and he hadn’t talked much about how homophobic his town was, but he had a pretty clear idea that things like this would’ve gotten him hurt or something. What if this made Harley uncomfortable? What if this made him panic? What if he shut himself away- 

Harley’s lips grazed his cheek, barley a kiss. 

He felt himself go bright red. Oh. Harley’s lips were soft and moist and oh. Oh. Wow. That was just a kiss on the cheeks and he was- wow. Just, wow. In the back of his mind he thought about Rose but he knew that this wasn’t like with Rose. 

“You never said where I had to kiss him,” Harley's brow rose, “Whats a kiss on the cheek among friends?”   
  
Yeah, Peter thought, fighting the urge to hold a hand up to the tingling skin that had been kissed, a kiss on the cheek among friends. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! hit me up at peachy keener on tumblr, or leave a coment here!!


	5. Heather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Cold. Rose Hill was always cold in winter. That was one thing that Harley loved about it more than anything. The idea that some place could be covered in ice and snow and freeze over, but every single year all the roses on the hill would grow back up, covering the world with pink and red and yellow and so many shades of green._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!! im back from vacation, but this chapter was also prewritten. I'm almost done w chapter six so that should be up sooner or later!! 
> 
> Massive trigger warning this chapter: this chapter includes a scene where harley almost drowns because the boys in his towns are homophobes. Beyond that theirs mention of past self harm, even if its brief. Please be very cautious when reading this chapter. If you would like to skip the scene with the homophobia, read past the italtics. 
> 
> Thank you very much to Ava, who beta read this. I love you a lot.

_ what a sight for / sore eyes -conan gray, Heather _

  
  


Harley sat on the edge of the roof, fiddling with his hands. Peter had told him that there was a very good chance that Spider-Man came to the tower tonight, because he sometimes did rest stops at the tower. Tonight was the night. Tonight was the night that he was going to meet Spider-Man. His  _ soulmate _ . 

He remembered the very frightening two days when Solo had been delirious with pain and fever, describing himself being able to stick to walls, able to bend steel with his hand, jump higher, and heal faster. At first, he had thought that Solo was just being delirious. That it really was just the fever talking. 

But then Spider-Man showed up on the scene. And Harley is a lot of things- stupid isn’t one of them. When Solo had asked Harley to stop reminding him of his glasses, he knew. He just knew that his soulmate hadn’t been delirious. He’d been stupid, and careless, and described his superpowers to Harley. 

The occasional bruise and scar of a wound would show up, but within two or three hours it would be healed. He pretended not to notice. Solo didn’t ever comment on it. 

Tonight really was the night he was going to meet his soulmate, he thought giddily, not that his soulmate  _ knew  _ that Harley was his soulmate.

Honestly, he was okay with Solo not knowing yet. He just- he needed a peek at the person his soulmate was behind the writing. And now that he was here, on the Tower roof, in New York, he was going to do just that. He was going to meet his soulmate and it would be perfect and beautiful and his soulmate would accept his gift of a spider-bot, and it would be perfect. 

The form of a swinging figure on the horizon caught his eyes. That was Spider-Man. He was headed this way and it was heart-pounding. He was really going to do this. He was really going to meet his soulmate.

Quickly, his hands found his hair, running it through his fingers, trying his hardest to look better than he actually was. He had opted for a casual ‘I just couldn’t sleep’ look. Sweatshirt and hastily thrown on sweatpants. Slippers. Tinkering with Miss Muffet, you know?

He glanced back, and Spider-Man's silhouette found his eyes, and he shifted nervously. What if he made a fool of himself?    
  
Shaking his head, Harley forced himself to remember what his therapist had taught him. What-if statements weren’t okay to make. They were seeing the future, and no one could do that. There was nothing you could do about the what if, just what you could do about the  _ now _ and it was important to stay in the now. 

He grounded himself, “You can do this.”

The red and blue hero landed on the ledge next to him, “Hey there.”   
  
“Hi,” he flushed, “Um- You’re Spider-Man.”   
  
“At your service, beautiful,” He did a dorky bow and Harley’s heart swelled, “What can I do for you?”   
  
His brain caught on the word  _ beautiful _ , and he went almost as red as Spider-Man’s suit, “You think I’m beautiful?”

“I think you’re absolutely gorgeous,” Solo- because Spider-Man was  _ Solo _ , and Solo was  _ Spider-Man-  _ murmured, “But I suppose you’re actually here for something, yes? Not just to grace me with your presence?”   
  
“No, not just to grace you with your presence,” He giggled, the sound rising from his gut and making him feel lighter than all of the clouds, “I actually- wait, first, let me introduce myself,” He held out a hand, “Harley Keener.”    
  
His soulmate took his hand, bringing it to his masked lips and kissing his knuckles, “Beautiful name for the most beautiful boy in the world. But I know who you are, Harley.”   
  
“Oh,” he squeaked, because what. Did Solo know him in real life? Did they go to school together? Did Solo know that he was Rose? He licked his lips, “You do?”   
  
“Of course. Peter talks about you all the time,” Spider-Man paused, “So does Mr. Stark. Both of them are very very fond of you, after all.”   
  
He didn’t think he could get any redder, “I really love them. They’re some of the best people I know.”    
  
“I’m glad you think so,” Spider-Man’s voice was soft, and he shifted to sit next to Harley, their arms touching, as if that small movement didn’t bring Harley’s heart to his throat, “Because I know they love you too.”   
  
“Wow,” Harley breathed out, then shook his head, “No, I’m just a mechanic that they took in for the program-” He flushed, “Speaking of that program, I was hoping you’d be out here tonight.”   
  
“You were?”   
  
“I was.”    
  
“Well, then,” Spidey leaned closer and Harley’s heart leapt out of his body, “What’s up, Harls?”   
  
“I um,” He licked his lips again, “I made you something.”    
  
Clumsily, he brought out the newest design of his spider-bot. Miss Muffet was arc-powered with the world's tiniest arc, and acted as a wifi source, an extra energy source, an EMP, and a data collector. She was the least glitchy thing that Harley had ever made, and he had been working on her for weeks. 

Spider-Man’s lenses went wide, “Wow- Oh my gosh. That’s…that’s a mini spider.”   
  
“Her name is Miss Muffet,” Harley’s voice came out very soft and found, “I made her for you. A part of the reason that I took this internship was because we were told we would get to meet and work with you at some point. I guess I just really wanted to meet you. You’re like my favorite hero.”   
  
“I am?”   
  
“Don’t sound so shocked,” he whispered, “You’re a modern hero who has done nothing but save people and be a good person since you got on the scene. You’re not like anyone else- you actually genuinely help people. Like…down to the ground, making sure a city that you love, that you’re  _ dedicated  _ to is protected. That everyone in it is safe. And you absolutely do that- you’re the future, Spider-Man.”    
  
Harley breathed out before continuing, “When I first met Peter, I told him that you were a good guy. I want to amend that because it's not just that you’re a good guy- not that you aren’t, you are a good guy- but it's that you’re an amazing hero too. Even when you don’t save everyone, you stop, and you think, and it's clear in your next fight that you do things different in order to save everyone. And I think that's- really admirable. I just think that you’re the future of the heroes in this world.”   
  
“You-” Spider-Man sounded choked up, before pulling Harley into a bone crushing hug, practically pulling him into his lap, “Thank you. So much.”   
  
Secretly, Harley was beaming to be in his soulmate’s lap, in his arms. For a brief moment he let himself sink into the feeling of  _ home  _ and  _ trust  _ and comfort. He just breathed in his soulmate, because this was his soulmate. This was his Solo. This was the man he loved more than anyone else in the world. He was in his soulmate’s arms and that was. That was a lot. 

Out loud, however, he kept a serious-ish face, murmuring softly into his shoulder, “Yeah. Of course. Nothing I said was untrue.”   
  
“Still,” Spider-Man’s arms tightened around him and he melted like butter, “It means a lot to me that you believe in me so much. It just…makes me feel like I’m doing something right.”    
  
“You are,” He said firmly, pulling back to meet his eyes through the mask, “You are doing something right. You’re a hero. You’re  _ my  _ hero.” 

For a soft, intimate moment, the both of them just stared at each other with the weight of those words. They were true. They were always going to be true. Even if Solo hadn’t become Spider-Man, he would always be Harley’s hero because he was everything Harley had ever wanted or needed in this life. 

Solo was his hero. Spider-Man was his hero. And that was the truest thing in the entire world. 

Spider-Man seemed to understand the gravity of the words, responding back seriously, “Thank you. I’ll always try to hold that position.”   
  
“You’re the only one who could,” Harley said quickly, “I don’t think anyone could be a better hero than you. I think you’re the only person that's constantly in the streets, working to make sure that people have a better life. I think you’re the only hero that truly assesses a situation on a case to case basis. I think you’re the only candidate to be my hero.”   
  
“That means the world, Harley,” Spider-Man was soft and gentle and Harley could feel his own pulse on his fingertips, because, God, he was still in his soulmate’s lap, wrapped around him, talking about how he was his hero, “I want you to know that I will always make you proud.”   
  
Harley didn’t respond, just pressed closer into his soulmate. His soulmate. 

Slowly, after several long moments they detangled, “Tell me about Miss Muffet.”   
  
“I call her Missy,” Harley grinned, beginning to rattle off facts about her, “She’s officially a helper bot, the third prototype of her kind. She can fold into a cube and be kept in small places. She’s unhackable- trust me, I checked- and she works kinda like a roaming internet source, while also being an EMP, while also being able to record audio, video, and vitals, as well as a data collector. She can fit into small places and jam tech- like Doc Oc’s or Goblin’s, or even Mysterio’s. I put reality sensors- as I call them- on her. Basically she can sense what is illusions and what's real and report back to you.”   
  
“Holy shit,” Spider-Man was once again looking at him with wide lenses, “Holy shit. That's- it's no wonder you’re Mr. Stark's favorite. You’re a genius. You’re a kind beautiful genius with a heart of gold, aren’t you?”   
  
“I don’t know about all that,” He flushed at the praise, “I’m just Harley. But I like making things for people.”   
  
“You’re just Harley, and Harley is the most amazing person in the world. I can tell.” 

His heart pounded hard. After all, this was his soulmate giving him all that praise and affection. Which was- all sorts of wonderful in Harley’s opinion. This meeting could’ve gone no better than it had, in his opinion. 

He cleared his throat, “Thank you.”   
  
“No, thank you,” Muffy crawled onto Spider-Man's shoulder, “She’s wonderful."   


You’re wonderful, he thought, but spoke softly, “She’s yours.”   
  
“I’m serious, thank you.”   
  
“No problem,” He chewed at his bottom lip, “Maybe instead of saying thank you, I could make you more tech?” 

“Yes,” The response was immediate and the breathy quality of his voice made Harley go bright red, “Absolutely. You can make me all the tech you want.”   
  
Harley grinned softly, “Okay. Alright. Of course.”   
  
The two of them stared at each other, in awe and in love, even if Spider-Man didn’t know it. This was his soulmate. They were soulmate’s. This was his Solo. His  _ Solo  _ who called him beautiful now and thought he was charming and now knew that Harley thought he was the most brilliant hero in the world. This was his world. 

For his part, Solo seemed to be studying him just as much. He couldn’t see past the lesnes, but he could feel where his soulmate’s eyes trailed. Over his face, onto his lips, his jawline, his eyes. Like he was studying how Harley looked. 

The thought made him feel absolutely thrilled. It made him feel wanted and beautiful and sexy and worth it. Wow- just wow. This was just…amazing. 

“I have to go,” Spider-Man murmured, “Karen- my suit’s AI- just alerted me to a crime.”   
  
He stood up, and Harley joined him, “Go be a hero, Spider-Man.”   
  
Then his soulmate was off, swinging away with Missy. 

Harley flopped back on the roof, and started laughing. He just couldn’t help it. He was more happy than he had ever been, running a hand over his face. 

“Bye bye, my Solo.”

  
  


_ she's such an angel -conan gray, Heather _

  
  


Peter sniffed, humming, “Something smells good.”   
  
“It was my day to cook,” Harley hummed cheerfully, “So I thought I’d go big. I’ve got a few types of pancakes ready, and I’m making some homemade blueberry and strawberry syrup.”   
  
“You seem in a good mood,” Peter's heart quickened, because he knew why Harley was in a good mood, “Something happen last night?”   
  
“I met him!” Harley spun to face him, and he flushed at the brightness of Harley’s glow, “I met Spider-Man!”    
  
He knew that Harley had met Spider-Man. He was there. Because he was Spider-Man. And he had maybe accidentally flirted with Harley but he really couldn’t have been blamed for that. It was a full moon and Harley had just been so damn cute in the moonlight, and Spider-Man was known for being a bit of a jokester, a flirt was only the next step. 

If he was completely honest, he felt really really guilty about his tiny crush on Harley. And it was that- just a tiny crush on a friend. Barely even a crush. He was just a friend and both of them had soulmates that they’d said they were holding out for. They were both waiting for their soulmates- and Harley’s soulmate was in  _ Queens.  _ So he wasn’t having an actual full blown crush on Harley, he was just admiring the beauty of one of his friends. 

“How was that?” he asked, the evil part of him wanting to hear about what Harley thought of his alter ego, as he slipped into a chair, “Was it everything you hoped it’d be?”   
  
Harley hummed, face red, “It was even more- he was perfect. He was literally the best thing in the world. He was kind and funny and charming- and-”   
  
“Careful there Harls,” Flash yawned, scratching his arm as he walked into the room and Peter could have screamed at the interruption, “You sound like you have a crush on him.”   
  
“I- what- you-” Harley spluttered, and Peter knew deep down that it was wrong to be enthralled with the fact that your best friend who you thought was cute had a major crush on your alter ego, “I do not have a crush on Spider-Man!”    
  
“Oh, that? Yes you do. I could’ve told you that.”    
  
Harley’s face was growing redder by the second and Peter hid his smile behind his hand, “No! No way! I do not have a crush on Spider-Man! He’s just- he’s cool, and funny, and he called me beautiful, and he liked my bot, and he thought I was smart, and he’s very- he’s very-”   
  
“Your crush,” Flash said bluntly, yawning again, and reaching for the coffee pot, “Just admit it dude. You have nothing to hide. Everyone I know has had a crush on Spidey at least one- right Peter?”   
  
“Huh?” He blinked at both of them, trying to play it cool, “Oh yeah. I had a huge crush on him once.”   
  
“No way,” Harley pointed at him with a spatula, “You love your soulmate too much to have a crush on anyone else.”   
  
Wow, and just like that Peter felt guilty again. “Everyone gets crushes. It's totally normal.”   
  
“Peter’s right, Harls- admit you want Spider-Man to top you and get over it.”   
  
Harley choked, “Oh my God- oh my _ God _ I’m- Eugene Thompson, I’m going to kill you!”    
  
“Hmm,” Flash sat down next to him and leaned over, “Watch this, Pete.”   
  
“You’re gonna get killed,” Peter whispered back, but Flash seemed to not care about the preservation of his own life.    
  
“Harley.” Harley paused his rant. “I’m telling you right now, you just need to get fucked good and hard by Spider-Man once and then you’ll get over the crush.”   
  
“Get  _ fucked- good and hard-”  _ Harley’s voice grew to a shriek and his face grew redder than a sunrise, “How  _ dare  _ you just- just- just  _ assume _ that I would  _ ever sleep  _ with someone who’s  _ not  _ my soulmate- and I am  _ not a bottom- _ I could kill you! I’m going to kill you!

“How  _ dare  _ you, Euge- I-  _ get fucked good and hard?!”  _ Harley was seething and Peter pressed his hands into his face at his friend’s rage, “I will have you  _ know _ that what I do in my bedroom is none of your _ business-  _ and to  _ assume _ that I would ever sleep with an active hero- you- how _ dare you!” _ _   
_

“Okay, first,” Flash was still looking unphased, “Admit it. Admit it right here and now that you want him to fuck you.”   
  
Shuri popped into the room, “Who does Harley want to fuck him?”   
  
“No one!” Harley seethed, flushing, “I’m a top first of all- and- and- I don’t want to get fucked by Spider-Man!”    
  
“Oh, so we're playing the denial game,” Shuri grabbed a plate, moving to pile it high with pancakes, “Peter, want me to make you a plate?”   
  
He poked his head out of his arms, “Chocolate chip pancakes please.”   
  
“-do not ignore me Shuri!” Harley huffed, face bright red, “I’m not in denial! I just  _ do not think  _ you all need to be  _ speculating  _ about who I  _ may or may not  _ want to bang- and  _ no-  _ I don’t want Spider-Man to fuck me!”    
  
“And other things I absolutely never needed to hear,” Peter watched as his dad stepped into the room, taking in the frazzled state of his intern, “Are you okay, Harley?”   
  
Harley’s face twisted into mortification, “I’m going to kill Flash.”   
  
“Well,” his dad just nodded, moving further in to press a kiss to Peter’s hair, “Clean up the blood it leaves.”    


Flash just laughed, grinning at both Peter and Harley. For a moment Peter agreed with Harley. This man needed to  _ die.  _

Then Shuri passes a plate of chocolate chip pancakes in front of him, and all thoughts of murder escaped his mind. 

  
  


_ but then again kinda / wish she were dead -conan gray, Heather _

  
  


Despite how annoying all his friends were, Harley loved cooking them stuff. It was just one of his favorite hobbies in the world. On this particular July day, it was so hot outside that the windows could melt off the Tower. It didn’t help that Steve had pissed off Friday so badly she cut off the cold air for all the penthouses, so everyone was boiling with heat. 

So obviously, Harley knew exactly what to cook. Pasta salad, with kale, quinoa, and tomatoes as a side. Easy and best served cold. Absolutely perfect for a mucky, sticky, hot day. 

Everyone else had opted to go to the indoor swimming pool a few floors below the penthouse- Harley had not even realized that there was a pool in the tower. Either way, he was more than content to make lunch for all the inhabitants of the Tower instead of joining them in the water. In fact, he preferred the cooking to anything else in the world.

“Well that looks good,” Mr. Stark came into the room, “I was coming to ask you if you needed help, but it looks like you got it.”   
  
Harley hummed, moving to stick the pasta salad in the fridge, “Yep- this is one of my ma’s favorite recipes. I’ve known how to make it since I was five- the salad on the side is new though.”   
  
“Quinoa,” Harley watched as Mr. Stark’s nose scrunched like Peter’s did when he didn't like something, “Disgusting.”   
  
“Good for you,” Harley corrected, “I’ve already had this argument with Peter. You don’t have to eat it, but some people in the tower like it.”   
  
“Steve should never have his likes catered to him.”   
  
“Captain Rogers isn’t the only person who likes this recipe,” He huffed, giving his boss the side eye, “Me, Shuri, Riri, Ms. Romanov, and Flash, all like it. You and Peter are the only two who advocate for the total removal of all quinoa products from the tower.”   
  
“Can you blame us?” 

“Yes.”   
  
“Hey!” the older man crossed his arms disapprovingly, “You know, I think I liked you better when you didn’t sass back.”   
  
Harley rolled his eyes, “I sassed back internally.”    
  
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he walked past Harley, getting out a bottle of juice from the fridge, “And you know you don’t have to call every adult you meet ‘Ms.’ and ‘Mr.’ right?”   
  
“Sure, Mr. Stark.”   
  
“I’m serious,” Mr. Stark pouted, huffing childishly, “I think I really did like you better when you weren’t such a little shit.”   
  
Popping a tomato in his mouth, he rolled his eyes, “I was always a little shit, but before I wasn’t comfortable showing it. You should ask my mom- I’m a terrible, horrible, awful, little shit when I want to be.”   
  
“As much as I want to ask your unusually hot mother questions,” Harley whipped his head to face the adult, and he glowered, but Mr. Stark just continued, “I’m good with not knowing how much of a shit you are. I think I’ll find out one day, but today is not that day, my young friend.”   
  
“You’re quoting that from somewhere.”   
  
“Yep,” he shooed him off, “Now go get your friends- I’ll set the table.”    
  
Harley rolled his eyes again, but obliged, calling over his shoulder, “And stop telling me my mom’s hot!”   


Mr Stark just laughed, and Harley smiled under his breath. He wondered if Mr. Stark knew? No way he did, but still. Very funny. 

Soulmate’s were weird, he mused, because there were soulmates like him and Solo who loved each other and wanted to be with each other. Soulmates like Harry and Flash who chose to be with each other after not knowing where they stood for years. Soulmates like MJ and Shuri who wanted to be physical with one another but not romantic. Soulmates like Tony and his mom who never ever spoke to each other. 

There was just no obvious way to know someone was your soulmate, and that left in a whirlwind of possibilities. Harley loved all the possibilities of soulmates. Or maybe he just liked the possibility of his soulmate and the world. Or maybe he just liked possibilities. 

With every passing day he felt like there was a new possibility for him. A new way to breathe or think or do things. A new possibility. A new world for him to explore. That was the most wonderful thing that he’d ever experienced. Getting to wake up each morning, seeing the world in brighter colors than when he went to bed. 

It felt like safety. Like progress. And Harley loved every little thing about it all. He loved everything about the tower, and his friends, and the fact his soulmate was a superhero. He loved everything about working with his friends and being with people and living. He was happy.

He slipped out of the elevators, humming through the different spa rooms and sauna, making his way to where he heard shrieks of laughter that sounded distinctly like all of his friends. He grinned, moving to the pool room. 

“-Harry!” Flash was laughing, “you’re such an asshole- I hate you-”   
  
“You are what you eat, babe,” Harry winked. 

Shuri groaned, making a disgusted face from where she and Riri were on a float, “You’re disgusting. Stop telling us about your sex life, Harry, we don’t need to know.”   
  
“You two are just jealous of me and my baby,” Harry dramatically reached for his boyfriend, who paddled away out of his reach, so he whined, “‘Genie!”    
  
“Nope-”   
  
Peter’s head sprung out of the pool, grinning widely, “Harley!”   
  
Everyone’s head snapped towards him, all giving cheers of welcome. 

“Come to join us?” Shuri mused, “We wondered how long it would take.”    
  
“No, thanks,” He rolled his eyes and stepped towards them, “I’m here to tell you that lunch is ready- Mr. Stark’s setting the table now.”    
  
“Ugh,” Peter’s nose wrinkled, “Are we having quinoa again?”   
  
“I like it!”   
  
“Well I don’t,” his friend's face suddenly lit up, “To get me to forgive you, you have to do something for me.”   
  
He raised a brow, “What?”   
  
“Get in the pool with us and relax.”   
  
“No way,” his hands felt clammy, “I don’t have a bathing suit on.”   
  
Shuri looked at him with questioning eyes, “But you’re wearing boxers right? Same thing.”   
  
“I’m not getting in the pool,” Harley ran a hand through his hair, “Now come on. Lunch awaits.”    
  
Peter hummed, standing up, “Alright, alright, we’re coming.”   
  
“Thank you,” Harley breathed out, relaxing, “And quinoa is really not that ba-”

His breath hitched and the word was out from underneath him. 

In the back of his mind he was registering what happened. Peter must have come out of the pool, and got behind him in lieu of grabbing a towel and then pushed him. Peter did that. His Peter. 

The thing about trauma was that sometimes, you can be fine. You can be happy and in the prime of your life. You can be grinning, and laughing, and thinking that your life is finally getting back together. You can be on the right track to be healthy, and happy, and good. You can be finally in a place where you feel comfortable being yourself. 

And then one small action can take it away. 

In the back of his mind he registered that he was screaming at the top of his lungs. In the back of his mind he registered that he was in the water. In the back of his mind he registered that he needed to swim. In the back of his mind he was spluttering, and trying to get up or stand or something. In the back of his mind he knew his lungs were filling with water and he was choking. In the back of his mind he felt all of his friends scream, panicking to get him out of the pool. 

In the back of mind he knew he was in the tower. But it was so- 

_ Cold. Rose Hill was always cold in winter. That was one thing that Harley loved about it more than anything. The idea that some place could be covered in ice and snow and freeze over, but every single year all the roses on the hill would grow back up, covering the world with pink and red and yellow and so many shades of green.  _

_ He really liked Rose Hill sometimes. Not often- but today was nice. It was light gray, and snowing, and he could feel the ice and snow on the floor because of the hole in his left shoe but it was still nice. He had been tutoring that young boy, the one with a stutter that couldn’t seem to get a grip on any of the mathematical basics. If Harley was more brave he would tell the teacher that he thought this boy could have a learning disorder.  _

_ But a learning disorder was a death sentence for any of the educational systems of Rose Hill. They just didn’t have the resources to teach you, so they wouldn’t even try. Harley was fine with picking up the slack. He thought that if he didn’t go to new york and try to work for SI, he would be a teacher. It was a fun job, hanging out with the younger students and watching the understanding cross their faces.  _

_ What was better than this though? In one more week it would be winter break and he would be happy and free and away from the hell that was the high school.  _

_ Today had been very very good though. No major incidents. One name calling, but no one took him out beyond the dumpsters to beat him up so he counted that as a win. It also helped that he and Solo had been talking all day.  _

_ Though, the reason they’d been talking made him sad.  _

_ It had been almost a year since Solos’s uncle passed, and he was still broken up over it. It was one of those things that Harley was almost sure would never fade. Sure, things get better in time and each year it would get easier to face, but it just wasn’t one of those things that he’d ever forget. Harley wished he could help beyond being there for his soulmate, but he knew that he couldn’t. This was one thing that he’d never be able to get over.  _

_ In the back of his mind, he wondered what dinner would be for tonight. It was a Tuesday so Abbie was in charge of it, which really meant him cooking and Abbie attempting to help beyond burning the rolls. His mom didn’t have a night shift that night though, only a late shift that got her off at nine, meaning she’d actually be around to tuck Abbie in and then her and Harley could go watch a movie and talk.  _

_ He liked nights like this. Harley looked up to the snow, enjoying the cold on his face, and the feeling of the winter around him. The stretch of road he was on was completely alone, and he found some joy in the fact that he could stand out here and be himself. _

_ “Yo Keener!”  _

_ The feeling of joy slipped from him, and was replaced with a low coil of fear and anger. He kept his head down, eyes on the floor. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Don’t ignore me Keener,” EJ’s voice rang, “Look at him boys- running with a tail between his legs. What a fucking-” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ He closed his eyes tight, breathing out shakily. If he just kept walking, maybe he could get to the town square and they couldn’t harass him there.  _

_ “We’re talking to you,” A rock hit him in the back of his head, and he stumbled, tripping on his knees, “Jesus- you can’t even handle a tiny pebble?” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ He blinked back stinging tears, because dammit that was a big rock and it  _ **_hurt_ ** _ and it wasn’t fair that EJ was making fun of him for being hurt when he knew that the other boy couldn’t handle any type of pain if his reaction to being tackled on the football field was anything to go by.  _

_ EJ’s hand gripped him by the hair, pulling him back to his feet, “I was talking to you fa-” he winced- “-don’t you wanna come hang with me and the boys?” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ The question was dark and malicious, and Harley’s hands trembled at his sides, clenched into fists. If he hit EJ now he had a fifty-fifty chance of making it to the Town square or getting caught and killed. Wait- EJ didn’t have a bag, and he did, and if he ditched it he wouldn’t have another school bag for the rest of his year and he knew that he couldn’t do that. He unclenched his fists. He looked at the boys- the rest of the football team, it seemed like.  _

_ Twelve boys, all jeering and laughing at the town queer.  _

_ “EJ,” his voice sounded too quiet in his own ears, “I just wanna walk home.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Oh come on now,” EJ drawled, eyes angry, but smirk in place, “We know you love hanging out with us, Keener.” _ _   
_

_ “I gotta get home, EJ.” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “You know what,” EJ turned to his friends, grip in Harley’s hair tighter, “Who wants to play a game?” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ The football boys all jeered, and laughed, making sounds of agreement. In the back of his mind, he knew that EJ was doing this so that he wouldn’t be the one picked on, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt him.  _

_ EJ turned back to him, “We’re gonna play a little game called drowning fairies.” _

_ Everyone laughed. Harley shook his head, going quiet, “You still believe in fairies?” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “Only the faggy ones,” Harley forced himself to listen this time, “So come on- let’s take a little walk-”  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ He got Harley in a choke hold, dragging him past the woods. He flared, trying to get out of the grip. His pleas for EJ to just let him go were completely ignored and even drowned out as the other boys started messing around, laughing, jeering, doing whatever neanderthals do.  _

_ He wasn’t registering anything at all, as EJ tore off his backpack and winter coat and let harley there standing in a t-shirt, in the middle of winter, teeth clattering, “EJ-” _ _   
_ _   
_ _ “What do you think boys,” they stopped at the creek, “Should we drown the fairy?”  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Everyone cheered. Harley felt fear breaking into his heart.  _

_ The ice in the creek was cold but it wasn't frozen solid. That didn’t mean it didnt hurt when EJ picked him up by the chest and threw him into the creek. In the back of his mind he registered that he hit some of the rocks in the creekbed. _

_Harley_ _ stood up, spluttering, moving to go, to leave, to escape the situation; but suddenly there were hands on him, forcing him back into the water. His head hit more rocks, and he could tell there was blood. He struggled.  _

_ More and more hands joined EJ, and the panic was setting in, as he tried to force himself up- but his arms were slipping on the rocks, palms catching on the jagged ones and slicing open.  _

_ EJ jerked his head out of the water and Harley gasped for air, “You hear that, fag?! We’re gonna drown the fucking queer out of you!”  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ And then he was back in the water, head hitting the rocks again, struggling harder and harder to get up. He had thought panic set in before, but now, it was only the overwhelming feeling of needing out- needing air- needing to survive.  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ EJ didn’t pull his head out of the water this time. He kept him there, drowning, spluttering, unable to breath, for what felt like forever. He needed to get out… he needed to breathe… he opened his mouth, swallowing in water. He was choking. He felt a rock on his throat-  _

_ The hands released him, voices shouting something or another. Someone pulled him out of the water and he thought it was Old Man Sam-  _

-Peter, that was Peter, was above him, sobbing, “Harley- no, hey, stay with me- it’s gonna be okay- it’s gonna be okay, alright?   


“We’re gonna get dad, and it’s gonna be okay,” Peter was trembling, “I didn’t mean- I’m so sorry- stay with me- please- just- just- stay with me- stay with me.”   
  
His lungs filled with air and it was only then he registered that he was holding his breath. His face felt hot, and he felt like he was dying. He turned his head, jerking up, vomiting hard. Half water half food; it felt like hell.

He flinched away from Peter’s comforting hand, “Don’ ‘ouch me-”   
  
“I didn’t know,” Peter sobbed, “Harley- god- Harley- please-”   
  
“‘S fine,” The room was spinning, “I can’ breathe.”   
  
Peter pulled him to his chest and he jerked away, “s’op- i don’ wan’ you ‘o ‘ouch me.”   
  
“Harley,” Peter whimpered, “Let me help you.”   
  
He shook his head, feeling numb and oh so so so cold. Moving to curl into his side, he didn’t register much. He registered how his chest felt like it was hyperventilating. He registered that Peter was sobbing. He registered that Peter was the one who pushed him in. 

Peter pushed him in the pool when he had told him that he didn’t want to go into the pool. 

And then Harley was sobbing too. 

  
  


_ you gave her your sweater / it's just polyester -conan gray, Heather _

  
  


Peter hadn't let the hospital beds side. Not when he had done that to Harley. When he had put him here. This was his best friend who he had carelessly hurt more than anything in the world. He was a piece of shit. He was worse than a piece of shit. He was a good for nothing worthless person who hurt someone that he really really cared about. 

Harley had told him  _ no.  _ Harley had told him he didn't want to go in the pool and Peter had just not listened. He had ignored that Harley  _ didn’t  _ want to go in the pool and pushed him in there anyway. 

He had thought it was funny at first too. Then Harley let out that  _ scream-  _ that bloodcurdling scream of fear. Then Harley had hit the water and sank, scrambling to get up, open mouthed, inhaling water. He had gone limp in Peter’s arms as he had gotten him out of the pool. 

The next few minutes were probably the third most traumatic thing in his life. Harley, lying there, back flat, not breathing, eyes wide open, heartbeat slowing slightly. Everyone had scrambled out of the water, rushing to get to his side. Shuri had yelled for Friday to go get Tony, but that would take too long. Flash pushed them all out of the way, asking Harley questions but Harley was unresponsive and not breathing. Peter was the only one who could hear that slowing heartbeat. 

That’s when Flash had begun CPR. It all felt so unreal. It was unreal. The image of his pale best friend spitting up water and taking in a shaky breath felt like a nightmare. 

A nightmare of his own creation. He had done this. He had hurt Harley to the point he was unresponsive. 

“You’re thinking too loud,” Harley whispered, eyes still closed, hand squeezing Peter’s softly, “Stop thinking so much.”    
  
He shook his head, voice quiet, “I’m sorry.”   
  
“You’ve said that already.”    
  
“I need to say it more.”    
  
“I don’t want you to say it more.”   
  
“I hurt you, Harley,” his voice was trembling, “I hurt you so badly.”    
  
“It's not like you could’ve known what it’d do.”   
  
“You said no,” He pressed his lips to his friend’s knuckles, “And I did it anyway. That’s never okay. That’s not- I’m a horrible person.”    
  
Harley breathed out shakily, “Don’t do that.”   
  
“Do what?”   
  
“Turn my trauma into a Peter Parker pity party,” Peter could see the tears in Harley's lashes, “I don’t want you to use this to justify your own self-hatred.”

“I-” He swallowed, “But I do hate myself for this. I really really hurt you.”    
  
“You and thousands of others,” His blue eyes still weren’t open, “You’re not the only person who's hurt me. It’s whatever.”    
  
Peter shook his head, hands and voice trembling, “No- it’s not.”

“You’re right. It’s not.”   
  
“What can I do to fix this?”   
  
“Nothing.”   
  
His heart shattered, “I can’t fix this?”   
  
“No,” Harley shook his head, finally looking at him. The blue eyes were so dull, “You can’t fix this. This is my own trauma that I have to deal with on my own. I don’t really want to rely on you or someone else. I just want to get better again.”    
  
“Are,” He swallowed, throat dry, “Are we going to be okay?”   
  
Harley got quiet again, blinking up at him slowly. Then he shifted, scooting over in the tiny hospital bed, to leave room for Peter. Peter took the opportunity willingly, shifting into the bed and pulling Harley into his arms. 

Harley traced a pattern on his chest, “I don’t know. I want to say yes because you’re my best friend in the entire world and I don’t want to lose you. But a part of me is scared.”   
  
“Oh,” he felt like he’d been shot, “Of me?”   
  
“Yeah. I-” Harley breathed out, fingers stopping in their movement to instead splay across his left pec, “I trusted you more than anyone.”    
  
“And now you don’t.”   
  
“It’s more complicated than that.” 

“If you don’t wanna talk about it,” He tried to keep the weakness out of his voice but he just couldn’t, “If you don’t want to talk about it we don’t have too.”    
  
Harley shook his head, “No, it’s not even like that. It’s just that…now I can’t stop the image in my head of you being the one who tried to drown me. Which is- unfair, and more than awful. But it's like…my brain wants to combine the two incidents. And I'm trying hard to separate a joke from a literal hate crime.” 

“I-” Peter felt like he’d been shot. This was worse than being shot, “Okay. How do I- do you want me to go?”

“No,” The word was a panicked gasp, “No- please don’t go.”   
  
“Hey, hey,” He soothed softly, trying to mimic his dad when he was calming him down from a panic attack, “It's okay. I won’t go if you don’t want me too.”

His friend pressed closer, and Peter pressed his face into the blonde’s hair. Harley’s breath tickled his collar bone, “It's like… ’m scared. And I’m cautious. But you’re still my best friend in the entire world. And I just… I need my best friend.”   
  
Peter held him tightly, “Okay.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, Harls.”

Harley nodded, pressing further into him. Peter just held his friend in silence. He did this. He ruined this friendship and hurt his friend to the point he was scared of him. 

Harley was  _ scared _ of him. And maybe that was the worst feeling in the world. Harley who had once told him he was his hero was scared of him. But he hadn’t told Peter that. He’d told  _ Spider-Man  _ that. Not Peter. He wasn’t anything but Harley’s friend and he was terrified of him. 

That was probably a moment he would always remember too. 

Harley was scared of him. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream or punch something or throw a fit. Pressing his face more into Harley’s hair, he waited for the other boy to fall asleep in his arms. 

Originally he thought that he would leave after Harley’s breathing evened and his eyelids started fluttering. However, the very idea of letting him go shattered him. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t leave him. 

Instead he pressed closer and started humming gently, trying to help him sleep. 

“You don’t have the voice to sing someone to sleep,” Flash was leaning against the door frame of his room, “You know that right?”   
  
He didn’t have the energy, “Whisper, please.”   
  
“Okay,” To his surprise Flash obliged without any further jabs, “They sent me in here because they’re worried.”    
  
“Who are?”    
  
“Everyone. Your dad. The Avengers. Our friends. It's been a week and you won’t leave his side. He’s supposed to be discharged tomorrow, too.”    
  
“No,” he said quickly, voice soft, “He can’t be. He’s still recovering.”    
  
Flash gave him a look, “He’ll recover better when he's not in a medbay room and he's surrounded by his friends and family.”    
  
“I- I don’t think it’s a good idea.”    
  
“Don’t be stupid, Peter,” Flash’s voice was quiet, “And stop blaming yourself.” 

“I can’t do that.”    
  
“Okay, fair enough,” The other boy shrugged, “That's totally fair.”   
  
He blinked, holding Harley tighter, “I thought they sent you in here because they’re worried.”    
  
“They are, I’m not,” Flash leaned forward, elbows on his knees, “Unlike everyone else in this tower, I know exactly what you’re thinking. And I know that when you’re ready, you’ll breathe and find a way to fix it.”    
  
“I can’t fix this one.”    
  
“Maybe not,” it was times like this that he remembered that Flash was there for every big tragedy in his life, “But you won’t ever hurt him again. And slowly, he’ll realize that. He’ll realize that and you two will be okay again. But you can’t just lock yourself into a hospital room and break down because you did something bad. People do bad things, Peter. It's how they react after it that matters too.”   
  
“This isn’t like a bad thing. This is me hurting someone I love.”    
  
“I hurt you.”   
  
“That’s different.”    
  
“Is it?”    
  
Peter went quiet, “Do you really think that I wont hurt him again?”   
  
“Do you want to hurt him again?”   
  
“I didn’t even want to hurt him the first time.”

“Then you won’t.” 

Flash left him there alone with his words, and Peter let them wash over him. 

  
  


_ wish I were Heather / wish I were Heather -conan gray, Heather _

  
  


Harley felt like he was frozen. Nothing was making sense now. It felt like the floor had been ripped out from under him. “Mr. Stark-”   
  
“I know this comes as a very big shock,” Mr. Stark was speaking very calmly, “But after what occurred here, I talked to your mother. What we agreed on was that even though this is, and will be when you get back, a very safe environment for you, that it's not right now. We just think you need to go home.”    
  
“No,” He felt panic rush in his chest, “No- Mr. Stark- please don’t do this. I can be better- I can  _ do  _ better! I can just- let me stay. Let me stay and be here and work with you and Peter and everyone still. Don’t make me go home-”   
  
“Harley,” He wasn’t soothed by the gentleness in Tony’s voice, “Your mother doesn’t feel comfortable with you staying here now that you’ve been hurt here.”    
  
“I wasn’t hurt!”   
  
“You almost drowned because someone you trusted pushed you into the pool after you told him not to, you had CPR performed on you, and for the week after that you were practically comatose, not really doing anything but breathing, sleeping, and eating when someone forced you too.”   
  
Harley threw his hands in the air, exasperated, tears stinging his head, “So something bad happened! That doesn’t mean you should  _ kick me out  _ of my  _ home-”  _

“While I’m really happy you think of this place as home,” he sank back into his chair when he heard the firmness in his voice, “The point still remains that you had a very traumatic experience that led with being hospitalized. And I know from the reports Friday has been making on you, that you’re not sleeping. You’re not eating as much because I watch you at every single meal. You  _ flinch _ from people again. I just want you to be able to heal.”   
  
“I can’t heal in Rose Hill!”    
  
“You can heal better in Rose Hill than you are now.”    
  
“I don’t want to leave.”   
  
That got Mr. Stark to shift, saying softly, “You’re not being kicked out of the program. You’re just taking a step back from everyone in it and going home. In three weeks it’ll be August. You’ll come back on the eighth so that you can go to school with everyone on the fifteenth. Alright?”   
  
“I-” He felt like he was drowning again, “I don’t want to go back.”

“It's not forever.”    
  
“I hate it there. It doesn't have to be forever- but- this is the place I love, filled with people I care about.”   
  
“You need time and space from it to heal, Harley.”

“I can’t believe this,” Harley ran a hand through his hair, trembling, “Why are you doing this, Mr. Stark?”   
  
The room went quiet before Tony answered, “Because your mother doesn’t feel that you’re safe here, and right now, neither do I.”   
  
“I am safe-” Harley stood up, pacing, “I couldn’t be safer! Peter made one mistake! He didn’t mean to hurt me.”    
  
“And I know that better than anybody, Harley, but he still did hurt you.”   
  
“That shouldn't mean I have to leave!”   
  
“It's only for four weeks.”    
  
“Four weeks-” he shook his head, whittling on his heel to glare at his mentor, “I love it too much here to leave for that long.”   
  
“I’m sorry Harley. Your mother and I have already talked about it, and we agree that this is what's best for you. Alright?”    
  
“No! Not alright!”   
  
“Harley-”   
  
“Does anyone know you’re doing this to me?!” He didn’t mean to shout, but he was just so angry, and hurt, and betrayed, “Do Flash and Harry know you’re kicking me out? Do Shuri and Riri know that you’re sending me back to a place where I nearly  _ died?  _ Does Peter know?!”   
  
He stood there, panting, and angry, and took in the look on Mr. Stark's face. He wasn’t mad that Harley had yelled. In fact he looked more concerned than anything, as if this was something he wasn’t expecting to see from Harley. Like this anger just wasn’t Harley. But it was Harley- he was angry. 

Before the incident he had been doing  _ so  _ good. And now, Peter couldn’t look at him without seeing the mistake he made. Now, everyone but Flash and Shuri treated him like glass. Now, he wasn’t even allowed in the lab unsupervised because he fessed up to his therapist about self harming, before his brush with death, using scrap metal. Now he was being kicked out of his home.

The voice in the back of his head, the one he had gotten so used to not hearing in the past month, was whispering cruelly that it wasn’t his home. These people weren’t his friends and they did not care one bit about stupid, hurt, idiotic, Harley Keener. 

“No one knows,” Mr. Stark spoke slowly, “Especially not Peter.”   
  
Because they don’t care about you, the voice whispered. He swallowed it down instead, “Why not?”   
  
“Because you are my son’s best friend in the entire world, and you leaving will break him,” Everything was so slow and gentle with Mr. Stark, “But this isn’t about Peter. This is about you. I’ve got Peter, but right now, you need to be somewhere safe. And this isn’t safe for you anymore.”   
  
Harley slumped, moving to sit in a chair, “Will this really break him?”    
  
“Yes,” Mr. Stark said without hesitation, “He cares about you a lot, Harley. He hasn’t been sleeping or eating either because he’s so angry at himself for what he did to you. He cares about you a lot. And it will destroy him when you leave.”    
  
“Then I’m not going.”    
  
“You can’t stay somewhere you’re not safe for a boy.”   
  
“He’s your son,” Frustration bloomed in his chest again, “You know damn well that Peter is more than just a boy.”    
  
“You’re right,” Mr. Stark was back at it with the gentleness, “I do know that he’s more than just a boy. He’s your best friend. He’s an amazing kid with a genuine heart who only wants to do good in the world. But Harley,” He leaned forward, a stern look on his face, “That doesn't excuse the fact that you’re an amazing kid too, and it definitely does not mean that you have to put his wants and needs in front of yours.”

“I-” Tears stung his eyes, “No. I can’t leave. I’ll miss him too much. All of them too much.”

“You have to, kiddo.”    
  
“No- they’re my  _ friends.” _ _   
_

“Do you want to know the hardest lesson you ever learn as an adult?” He nodded his head, but didn’t look at him, “You learn that sometimes you have to let go of your friends. And most of the time they’ll come back to you when you can. It doesn’t mean it hurts less or you’re any less sad about the time you can’t be with it, but it does mean you have something to look forward too.”    


He swallowed, “It’s just four weeks?”   
  
“Yes,” Mr. Stark said softly, “It's just four weeks, then you’re back here with them.”

“Okay.”    
  
“Okay. Go pack up, and tell everyone goodbye.”    
  
His head jerked up, “Wait- I’m leaving today?”    
  
“Yes, kiddo. You have to leave today.”    
  
“But I-” It would take an entire day to say goodbye to  _ Peter  _ let alone everyone else, “It's not enough time to say goodbye.”    
  
“Four weeks.”   
  
“They’re the first people that have cared about me that didn’t have to care about me,” The words hit like a hard reality, “How am I supposed to leave them?”   
  
“You leave them by reminding yourself it's not forever,” Mr. Stark stood, moving to leave his desk and instead stand by Harley, placing a hand on his shoulder, “You leave them by reminding yourself that no matter where you are in the world they’ll be here to talk to you. You leave them by thinking of them when you can. You leave them by trusting them to be okay.”    
  
“What if it's not okay?”   
  
“It will be.” 

After a split seconds hesitation, he stood, and gripped his mentor in a tight hug. He understood why this had to happen. He understood that it was probably healthy for it to happen. He understood that. He knew that, logically. 

But God, he was gonna miss everyone.    
  
Mr. Stark hugged him back tightly, then pulled back, “Now come on. You have a bag to pack, some friends to say bye too, and a mother to get home too.” 

“Okay,” he whispered, heading out to the hallway, “Okay. Mr. Stark?”   
  
“Yeah, kiddo?”   
  
“I-” He ran a hand over his place, “You promise me I can come back here after four weeks.”    
  
Mr. Stark turned to him, a very very serious look on his face, “Harley, can I tell you something important?”   
  
He nodded.  “As long as you are alive,” Mr. Stark shifted so he was holding Harley tightly by the shoulders, “As long as you are alive and you have your brilliant mind, and your eager ideas, and your good heart, then you will always have a place in this tower. You will always have a place to call home. You will always have somewhere you can go. Because you are a wonderful, kind, amazing, brilliant kid who I think of as a son at this point. Okay?”    
  
Tears stung his eyes, and he offered a wet smile, weight lifting from his chest, “Okay.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy fourth of july!! 
> 
> Hit me up @ peachy-Keener on tumblr, or leave a comment, please!


	6. Call My Dad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harley was gone and it was like a part of him was missing. His very soul ached, and he knew it longed to see the best friend that he had become so close to in the past few months. He just… he wasn’t happy without Harley anymore. This one boy was one of the best things that had ever happened to him, and he just couldn’t face the world when he knew that Harley wasn’t in it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys
> 
> im almost finished physically writing this fic (two more chaptersto write then its done!!) so it now just depends on when my beta readers can edit for when this fic gets updated. I love you all so much fro supporting me. 
> 
> Tw for this chapter: Light homophobia at one scene, and Flash and Peter get into a physical fist fight. 
> 
> last chapter: Harley met Spidey for the first time, and then got his worst trauma in the entire world pbrought up again by peter. (being pushed in water by peter, bringing up flash backs to when he nearly got drowned) and was asked to leave to heal by tony.

_ i bet i look so grown up / shirt tucked in my jeans -ajr, Call My Dad _

  
  


To say that Peter was miserable was an understatement. Miserable implied that he was ‘wretchedly unhappy’ or ‘uncomfortable’. This was simply the bare minimum of what he was currently feeling. He was more than miserable. He was more than unhappy. There weren’t enough words on earth to describe how truly upset and awful Peter Parker-Stark felt. 

The worst part of it was that these miserable, unhappy, lonesome, horrible, pathetic, tragic, crestfallen, desolate, and despairing thoughts would just not seem to leave. Harley had only been gone one week of his four week sabbatical and Peter knew he was only going to get worse and worse as he missed his friend more than he thought was humanly possible. 

Harley was gone and it was like a part of him was missing. His very soul ached, and he knew it longed to see the best friend that he had become so close to in the past few months. He just… he wasn’t happy without Harley anymore. This one boy was one of the best things that had ever happened to him, and he just couldn’t face the world when he knew that Harley wasn’t in it. 

His only solace in all of this, was his rose,  _ i think im just making myself more miserable.  _

_ You definitely are,  _ Rose responded in seconds,  _ your friend will come back eventually. You said it yourself, he’s only on vacation for about a month. He’ll be back and you can go back to being his best friend.  _

A low pit fell in his stomach. He hadn’t told Rose about what he’d done to Harley. He couldn’t seem to tell his soulmate- who he told everything too- that he had hurt the friend he had been talking about so often. He just couldn’t do it. 

_ yeah,  _ He hesitated,  _ i guess i just miss him so much that its hard to really look past that- like youre my soulmate and the love of my life but hes one of my best friends in the entire world and i miss him :( _

_ You’re allowed to miss him,  _ He fought the smile back from his lips when Rose crossed out his frowny face and replaced it with a heart,  _ Just like you’re allowed to be upset that your friends gone. Don’t sweat it, love. Why don’t you call him? _

_ dad said i cant _

_ Since when do you listen to your dad? _

_ I always listen to my dad,  _ he huffed,  _ besides rose, my love, I don’t think he really wants me to contact him right now. I think he’d much rather have some time to himself and his family.  _

_ Ooh, proper punctuating and grammar. This must really be buggin you, Solo. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ It really is.  _

_ Well,  _ Rose drew a small flower on his wrist,  _ you always have me to talk too. And even more, you can talk to your friend once he gets back and you’ll be able to clear up whatever is eating you. For now, I think you should just relax. Take it easy. How’s Queens? _

_ its the same  _

_ Any Spidey Sightings? _ _   
_ _   
_ He suppressed a smile at the mention of his alter ego. Why did the boys in his life seem to adore his makes self,  _ ive never seen or met spidey  _

_ I just dont see how thats true!  _ Rose’s pen stalled, then continued,  _ hey can I tell you something?  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ go for it _

_ I haven't been entirely honest with you,  _ Peter felt his heart freeze as the cursive lettering appeared on his arm,  _ um, basically. I got a scholarship to this school towards the end of last year. I’ve been in Manhattan since then. I recently was able to go back home and visit my mom and sister but for the past few months I’ve been in New York. And thats not all- I’m coming back to stay at the end of the summer. Like- I’ll be going to school there, and then my moms gonna move my sister up and come join as well. I’ll be going to school in Manhattan but we’re probably gonna find a place in Brooklyn, or the Bronx.  _

Peter stared at his arm in shock. Rose was in New York the last school year. Rose was in Manhattan. Rose was in the same general vicinity as him for months, if the new friends also were part of his new school. Rose was going to come back and be near him- fuck Rose getting a place in Brooklyn or the Bronx, Peter was gonna reveal his identity and get him a room in the penthouse. 

He could imagine it now. He’d be sandwiched between Rose and Harley, his two favorite people in the world, watching Star Wars, and being content. He’d kiss Rose gently every morning and head to the lab to build with his friends. Maybe Rose and Harley would become friends, and they could go on double dates. He’d get to have everyone he cared about in a single place. 

_ Oh my god!!  _ He remembered he needed to respond and scrawled out quickly,  _ Thank you so much for telling me this, Rose!! This is!! Amazing!!  _

_ I know,  _ Peter could feel rose’s smile,  _ I’m really proud of myself.  _

_ I’m proud of you too!  _

_ But Solo… this doesn’t mean I’m ready to meet yet. Is that okay? _

He was too buzzed to process that statement,  _ of course its okay!! Just knowing that you’re near me is enough for now. Whenever you’re ready love, we can meet.  _

_ I don’t know when i’ll be ready to meet Solo. It could be a long long time.  _

_ I would wait forever for even a second with you, rose my love,  _ Peter found those words to be the truest that he’d ever written,  _ we go at your pace. We don’t have to meet until  _ _ you _ _ are ready, my love.  _

_ I love you. _

_ I love you even more.  _

_ How about you love me just as much? _ _   
_ _   
_ _ no deal. i love you more than anything else in the entire world.  _

_ You’re ridiculous.  _

_ You love it. You love me.  _

_ I do love you.  _

Peter’s heart swelled gigantically,  _ I love you too.  _

For a minute, Peter sat there grinning in his hands. Even when the words slowly got whipped off as Rose ended the conversation, he sat there looking at his arms. This was probably one of the best things he’d ever experienced. The mere knowledge that Rose had been here. 

The knowledge that his Rose would be there in the future too. This was- this was sending him through the roof and way past the moon. This was probably the best thing that could have happened to him. Leave it to his rose to take one of the worst few weeks of his life and change it into something good and pure. 

He was in  _ Manhattan.  _ He was near  _ Peter.  _ That was so- that was absolutely better than anything else in the entire world. 

_ But, solo, can I talk to you about something else? _ _   
_ _   
_ Peter’s grin was still glued to his face, dopey and huge,  _ anything, my love. _

_ You know how I got in that, fight thing, with my friend,  _ Rose’s words hesitated,  _ it made me realize some things and I think I should take a break from talking to the people i lean on, and focus on getting better without burdening other people.  _

_ i think thats a great idea, Rose,  _ his mind churned, grin slipping off,  _ but you dont mean like… not talking to me. Right? _

Rose didn’t respond for a minute,  _ I’ll do a check in every morning. Every time I wake up, I’ll write to you. But I just think that I lean too much on my support systems, to the point where I don’t think I know how to support myself without leaning on someone else.  _

_ And,  _ Rose continued when Peter didn’t respond,  _ there’s no one I’m worse about that with than you. I think I get so caught up in the knowledge that you’re always going to be there for me that I take advantage of it. And I don’t want to do that anymore. I want to be able to be strong on my own, without relying on others. I want to be able to not take advantage of you by forcing you to be there every single time I face even the smallest hardships. Its not fair to you. Its just not, Solo.  _

Logically, the words made sense. It was part of healing, learning how to do things on your own, and not just doing things for people. It was a part of the healing process. And Peter was proud of his Rose for realizing that. He was proud that his soulmate had grown to the point he could see that he could support himself. 

But this made him feel like he’d been shot. 

He had just lost Harley. He had lost his best friend. And now his soulmate was telling him that he wouldn't be there either. He was losing everyone he loved. He swallowed back panic. 

_ Youre not,  _ his mind swam,  _ youre not taking advantage of me. And you’re not a burden.  _

_ That’s the issue, Solo. As much as we don’t want to admit it, this relationship we have is borderline toxic at points. I mean- this is without even mentioning the fact that I self-harmed for two straight years so badly that you had to ask me to put it on pause for a few months after your uncle died. It was mentally taxing on you too, and it wasn’t okay. Even more- I come to you every time I’m even slightly panicked. Its me taking advantage of you, and I wont do it anymore. I don’t want to hurt you anymore. Maybe I’m not a burden, but me coming to you every few minutes about how overwhelmed or bad I feel -  _

Peter cut his soulmate off,  _ but i want to be here! I want that! I want to be here with you no matter what! Its part of being a soulmate that we take care of each other! You’re my rose, all I’ve ever wanted was to help you become okay! _ _   
_ _   
_ _ But that in itself is toxic, baby. I’m not doing this to hurt you. I’m doing this so I don’t hurt you more.  _

_ So you just dont want to talk to me? _

_ I’ll always want to talk to you.  _

_ Then don’t leave me alone,  _ hot tears welled in his eyes,  _ please.  _

_ You’re never alone. The second you need me I’ll be here. But… I need a break from everyone I love so I stop hurting them by leaning on them to the point where we both collapse. Okay?  _ _   
_ _   
_ His heart was in his throat, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever recover from this,  _ Okay. Just- you know I love you a lot, right? _

_ I know. I love you a lot too.  _

_ Rose?  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Yeah, baby?  _ _   
_ _   
_ _ I will always want to be here for you.  _

When Rose didn’t respond to him, Peter broke the pen. 

He didn’t mean too, but the tears were flowing down his face and he felt like he was going to die, and the grip on his pen shattered it. The ink flowed down his hand, but he didn’t care, chucking the pen half haphazardly towards his waste bin, and sobbing hard. 

Everyone he loved was leaving him.

Harley was gone. Harley was gone and would hate him more than anything when he got back. He had literally hurt Harley to the point the other boy had to leave. He had destroyed a friendship with someone who got him, the friendship that resonated with his soul. Harley would never want to be his friend again after he violated his space and triggered him into remembering the worst event of his life. Harley would never want him. 

And now his Rose was telling him that he didn’t want to be around either. That he didn’t want or need him anymore and that he could live without him. His soulmate, gone, because he wasn't a good enough soulmate to show support and prove that he always wanted his Rose. God- what kind of person was he that his soulmate didn’t want to lean on him?    
  
The two people he cared about most in the world right now were gone, and he had no one to blame but himself. 

Tony sprung into the room, “Peter!”    
  
“Go away,” His words were laced with tears, “Go away! Go away!” 

“Buddy,” His dd pulled him into his arms “Tell me what happened. Tell me what's wrong?” 

With those words, something vicious, and vile, and cruel found its way to his chest. 

What was wrong? His soulmate was leaving him. Would his father even  _ care?!  _ After all, he had never even spoken to his soulmate. How could his dad ever even pretend to know or understand the pain he was feeling right now when he had decided a long time ago that he didn’t love or care about the person that was the other half of his soul! 

He shoved out of his dad's grip, voice a shout, “everything! Everything’s wrong! I lost Harley, and now Rose doesn’t want to talk to me- but you wouldn’t care because you don’t love your soulmate!”    
  
“Don't come in here,” He couldn’t see his dad through the tears, but the white hot anger and shame in his chest wouldn’t let him stop, “Don’t you dare come in here, asking me what's wrong when you don’t love anyone but yourself! You haven’t ever even spoken to your soulmate! Mine told me he doesn't want to talk to me anymore and I feel broken and you’re over there laundering the fact that you don’t give a shit about your soulmate! Fuck you!” 

By the end of his rant, his voice broke, and suddenly, he was sobbing again. All that anger dissipated from his chest and was replaced with a cold, dreadful, sadness. He had lost his Harley, and his Rose, and now his dad would leave him too. 

“I’m sorry,” His voice cracked again, “I didn’t mean that- I’m so sorry dad. I’m so sorry-”

His dad didn’t flinch away from him, only gently holding him, scooping him up in his arms, like he was five and afraid of thunderstorms again. “I know you didn’t mean that. You’re upset right now and stressed. You lashed out. We can talk about that later. But I’ve got you, Peter. I’ve got you.”    
  
Peter sobbed hard into his dad’s shoulder, “He doesn’t wanna talk to me. He says he needs a break because he’s tired of hurting me. He doesnt hurt me dad- he loves me. And I love him.”    
  
“But he wants space to grow?”   
  
“Yeah.”   
  
“Then give him space. When he’s ready, he’ll come back to you.” 

“Are you sure?” He clutched at his dad, “are you sure he’ll come back?”    
  
They both knew he wasn't talking about Rose anymore. 

“Yes, bambino. I am.”    
  
Peter pressed his face as hard as he could into his dad’s shoulder and let him hold him. 

  
  


_ they started fighting with my friends / and I can't find them now -ajr, Call My Dad _

  
  


Rose Hill smelled the same. 

Like dying fern, heated pavement and Roses. He thought his house smelled the same too. His mom's daisy and lavender perfume. Abbie’s strawberry shampoo. The scent of motor oil that had somehow not faded. It was all very childhood. 

Harley found that, if he focused hard enough, he could smell Shuri’s vanilla lotion clinging to his clothes. Or the cinnamon gum that Riri chewed. He could taste the blueberry chapstick that Flash let him borrow. He could smell Harry cooking pasta in the kitchen. He could taste the chocolate chip cookies Tony kept in the lab. 

He could feel Peter’s hands in his like every movie night. 

It was weird, what he associated with home. His house smelled like the home he had known all his life, but now that he was back, he was just searching for the home he had made himself. The people he loved more than anything had made it for him. He missed them. 

That wasn’t to say that he was unhappy to be back in his childhood home. He loved his home. All the dashes on the doorframe in the kitchen, one in red for him, and one in pink for Abbie. The Legos cramped in the joints of the rocking chair. The dolls lying in a bin from when Abbie was five. The flower clock his mom loved. The yellow kitchen walls, the red living room, the shaggy worn out brown carpet. It was the home he had spent his entire life in. 

He also loved that he was back with his family. Friends were nice, but he missed his family something terrible when he was away. He missed how Abbie would tease and make fun of him in French or Korean or whatever language she was trying to learn that week. He missed his mom's soft hands carding through his hair. He missed how they always did something together when they could. How even though his mom was busy, she was still working to make it better for her kids. 

Generally, Harley loved his family. He even loved nights like tonight. 

The air was hot and sticky, and sweeter than usual. Maybe the rose’s were still blooming, or someone's strawberries were finally producing fruit, or the sky just smelled sweet. Harley loved it. He had a glass of cold lemonade in his hand, and he was on the roof of the shed, counting every star he could find. 

That was one thing he didn’t miss about the city. Maybe he missed the skyline and how everything was always alive with noise or light or people, but he loved how the stars sparkled out here. They were bright enough he didn’t think he needed the city lights. 

“Mind if I join you?” His mom said softly, looking up at him from the latter at the bottom of the shed. 

“Of course you can, Mama,” he scooted over, taking a sip of his lemonade, “Did you just get back from work?”   
  
“About fifteen minutes ago,” she slipped into the spot next to him, kissing his head, “How are you feeling?”   
  
He thought about that for a moment. How  _ was  _ he feeling? He missed Peter. He missed everyone. He even missed Solo, because he had decided he wasn’t going to keep using his soulmate as a crutch. It was kind of lonely here. 

Despite all that… he felt like he had been born again. Like he had been submerged under water for a long time and he was finally just beginning to breath in the air around him. He supposed that feeling was warranted, given everything that had happened to him. This pressure on his chest that had been slowly lightening for the past few months was finally gone. Deep down inside he knew that there would be days where that pressure came back. But right now it was gone. 

“Like I can finally breathe again,” Harley admitted slowly, the impact of saying the world allowed hitting him, “Like in the past few years I had this rock laying on my chest. And when I went to New York, the people there started to chip it down, and now, I was strong enough to push the rock off myself.”    
  
His mom looked at him with teary eyes, “Oh, sweetpea… I’m so happy for you, Harley.”    
  
“It helps knowing that they want me back,” he leaned onto his mom, finding comfort in the familiarity of the action, “That even though I broke down in front of them they still care about me and they want me to come back.”    
  
“Of course they want you back; you’re brilliant, and kind.” 

“I am?”   
  
“You always have been.”   
  
Harley was starting to believe that. Maybe it was the way that he had made such amazing friends in the past few months. Maybe it was the fact that he had more than just two people in his corner. Maybe it was the fact that he was well liked and even loved back in New York. Whatever it was, he was starting to believe what his mom had always been telling him. 

They sat there in silence for a while, watching the sky, watching the stars. When he was younger his mom used to help him count all the ones in the sky. They always lost count somewhere between one hundred and two hundred, and just started pointing out all the constellations in the sky that night. 

Macy broke the silence softly, “I spoke to my soulmate for the first time today.”    
  
“Oh,” Harley blinked. He hadn’t really been expecting his mom to say that, “What’d he say?”   
  
“That he was sorry.”   
  
“What’d you say?”   
  
“That I understood.”

“Do you understand?” 

“Yeah,” his mom looked far away, “Your grandparents were soulmate purists. And they were really mean to your uncle David because he didn’t have a soulmate. So in solidarity I never wanted to talk to mine. So I understand why he wouldn’t talk to me. I didn’t want to talk to him.”    
  
The mention of his dead uncle made him falter. It wasn’t that he didn’t know about his uncle David, just that it was weird to think of the man who had died at sixteen. His mom had named him after him. Harley David Keener. And throughout the years, she had mentioned how much the two of them looked alike. 

The wound was always going to be fresh for his mom. 

“Did you two talk about anything else?”   
  
She paused, giving Harley a wry smile, “He asked if I knew who he was.”   
  
“What’d you say?”   
  
“That yes, I did,” The smile turned less wry, and more gentle, sweet, “We talked for a bit, and he wasn’t surprised that I knew who he was. He asked if I wanted to meet, and I said now wasn’t good. We had just started talking. I don’t really know him yet.”    
  
Harley nodded, thinking, “But you want him to know it's you?”   
  
“Not really,” His mom shifted, and began to braid through Harley’s hair, “I like the anonymity of being just his soulmate. Not Macy Keener, mother to the two best kids on earth, just some random woman in Tennessee with a superhero for a soulmate.”   
  
“That makes sense.”    
  
“What about you? How’s your boy?”   
  
“Solo?” He paused, thinking, “He’s good. I told him I was going to school in New York now. He was really really excited by that. We’re taking a bit of a break from each other, now though. So I can heal on my own a bit.”   
  
“I’m proud of you.”   
  
The words made him smile. His mom was always proud of him. Even when he had been absolutely awful with his depression and the way he handled it, his mom had always been proud of him. 

Even at his lowest point he had someone in his corner. 

“Thank you,” He shifted to look at her, “I mean it. Thank you. It means a lot to me that you’re always here for me, always understanding, never mad at me or angry. You’ve always been on my side, you know that?”   
  
“And I always will be on your side,” Macy smiled at her son, “You and your sister… you guys are the light of my life. I would do anything to keep you two safe, and happy, and protected. You both mean the world to me, and I love the two of you. I’m always going to be here, in your corner, helping you back up when the world knocks you down. Okay?”    
  
“Okay, mama.”    
  
“I love you, Harley. You’re the best son a mother could ask for, and I’m proud of how much you have grown. You give me hope for a better world.”    
  
In the back of his mind, he thought the same thing about his mom. That she was what the world needed. That her kindness and her gentleness was what the world needed. It needed more people like his mother. 

Instead of voicing all that he whispered, “I love you too, mama.”

  
  


_ hit some bars / and saw some brawls / and found a house to sleep -ajr, Call My Dad _

  
  


“Well at least,” Flash bit out, eyes angry, “At least I love my soulmate!”   
  
The entire room froze, the words rendering the air around them cold and bitter. The rest of their friends watched helplessly, eyes wide. Peter tensed harder, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that the reason your little  _ Rose,”  _ Flash spat, stepping closer to Peter, angrier than a bull, “Really doesn’t wanna talk to you anymore is because he knows that you have a hard on for Harley! Everyone here knows that you’re in love with Harley Keener, you unfaithful, horrible, terrible-” 

Peter couldn’t control his body. A part of him acted on instinct, and the part of him that wasn’t acting on instinct was too busy holding back his super strength. But then Flash was on the ground, clutching his jaw and Peter was towering over him, enough rage in his body to decimate a city. 

And just as quickly as Peter had punched him, Flash sprung up, throwing a punch to Peter with all of his body weight. The two boys were on the ground, scrambling to hurt each other, tearing at one another’s skin and hair, fits punching, nails scratching, a genuine fight with anger in each one of their actions. 

Someone grabbed Peter by the arms, forcing him back, and he registered that Harry had pulled Flash away too, but both boys struggled towards each other, legs flailing as they were dragged away from each other. 

In the back of his mind, he wondered why it had come to this. 

This was supposed to be a movie night between his friends, and somehow, one thing had led to another and Flash and Peter had begun fighting. Really, it was his fault and he knew that. He shouldn’t have agreed to a movie night- he should have gone out as Spider-Man the second he got home so he could blow off some steam. 

Technically, he had blown off steam. Just directly into the face of his friend. Then one thing led to another- and hearing Flash say that about Rose and Harley broke him in a way that he didn’t want to think about. 

He wasn’t in love with Harley. Flash had no right to imply that he was in love with Harley. He wasn’t. And he wasn’t a bad soulmate to Rose.

Hot tears welled in his eyes, and he couldn’t focus on the world around him. He jerked back from whoever was holding him. He wasn’t a bad soulmate. He wasn’t. He was a good soulmate. He loved his Rose more than he loved anything in the entire world. 

Flash was wrong _.  _ Flash was wrong. Flash was wrong. Flash was  _ wrong _ . 

But the words he had said vibrated around Peter’s head, and those stinging tears escaped, down his face, as he stumbled to the door.  _ At least I love my soulmate.  _ He loved Rose. He loved Rose- his Rose was the best thing in his life. His Rose was the thing that got him up every single morning when Ben died. His Rose was the love of his life. Of course he loved Rose- and the fact that Flash had implied he didn’t made something inside his gut curl. 

And he wasn’t in love with Harley. He wasn’t. Harley wasn’t his soulmate and he wasn’t in love with him. He didn’t love Harley like he loved Rose. Harley was one of his best friends in the entire world, and he wouldn’t deny the fact that he had a small, tiny, crush on the other boy. But he wasn’t in love with him- because if he was, that would make him everything flash said, and everything flash was going to say. If he was in love with Harley instead of the Rose he had promised himself too that meant he was nothing more than a terrible soulmate, horrible soulmate,  _ unfaithful  _ soulmate. 

But what if he was in love with Harley? What if Flash was completely right? What if he was in love with Harley and he didn’t know it, but somehow, Rose could tell he was an unfaithful soulmate? A soulmate who cheated, a soulmate who lied, a soulmate who didn't care?

He stumbled out into the hallway, thoughts swirling in his head, clouding his vision. Or maybe that was just tears in his eyes, making everything blurry. His head hurt, and his mouth was dry, and all he wanted to do was lay down now. 

His hand hurt too. Why did his hand hurt? He punched Flash. Why did he punch Flash? Because Flash was right. He was a horrible person, and a worse soulmate. Flash was completely right. He was terrible to Rose and that's why Rose wanted to stop talking to him. Because he wasn’t good enough. Because he was unfaithful. 

Peter didn’t know when he got into his bed but he relished in the familiar warmth of it. His head was still racing, and he wasn't sure that he was breathing. It wasn’t like he wasn’t breathing, it just felt like the rise and fall of his chest wasn’t bringing any oxygen in. He was a horrible person. 

His Rose probably hated him. Rose probably thought he was disgusting and terrible. And Harley- poor Harley- probably saw Peter’s pinning and thought he was a disgusting unloyal piece of shit that was betraying his soulmate. 

Peter was betraying his soulmate. Betraying him like his dad had betrayed his soulmate by ignoring her for years. Was that why Rose left him? Had Rose left him because he wasn’t good? 

Was he good?

No. No he wasn’t. He wasn’t good. He was bad. He was a bad person.

A good person didn’t force their soulmate to stop talking to them. He had made Rose hate him so much that Rose wanted to stop talking to him. He had done everything wrong. He had tattooed over the scars on their thighs without Rose's permission and wrecked the trust they had built. He had never been good enough at comforting him. He had never done anything beyond the minimum to support him. Rose had self harmed and been so depressed all those years because he had a soulmate like Peter. Peter had done that to him. 

He triggered Harley into leaving. His best friend who had been recovering from almost being drowned, he had violated, pushed into a pool, and broke. He had done that. He had forced Harley to relive the worst memory in his entire life. He had shown Harley that he didn’t care about him, and pushed him into the pool, and watched helplessly as his best friend sank and almost drowned again. He had caused one of the people he cared about most in the world to remember the worst thing that ever happened. The stress of it all had almost reopened a hole in Harley’s heart. He had done that. He had done that. 

He had gotten his uncle Ben murdered. It had been his idea to go get ice cream. It had been his idea to go get ice cream from the store that night. It had been his fault, because he had let the mugger go early that day. When he had gotten scammed, when he had let the person who stole money from his scammer go, he had ensured that his uncle would die. It was his fault. He was a bad person. He was a bad person. He had killed his uncle Ben. 

Of course he was bad. 

Even trying to atone for those sins wasn’t enough. How many people had died under his watch as Spider-Man. How many had suffered because Peter wasn’t good enough to save them. How many had been hurt or wounded because Peter was a terrible hero. 

He was a bad person. He was so bad- 

“Peter?” Flash whispered from behind his door, “Can I come in?”   
  
He blinked. His room was dark now. When had the sun gone down? When he got there it had still been light. 

His silence was taken as a yes, and Flash shuffled into the room, a dark spot on his jaw, and a few more bruises forming on his arms, “Hey.”    
  
“Hey,” Peter’s voice reflected the guilt he felt in his gut at the sight of his old friend's bruises, “I’m sorry.”    
  
“I should be the one sorry.”    
  
Flash sat on his bed. They both sat there in silence for a moment. Maybe, Flash had been remembering their freshman and sophomore years of high school. The bullying that went on there. Peter knew that those years were Flash’s demons, as much as he tried to hide it. 

Much like how bad he was made up Peter’s demons, all the bad things Flash had done made up his. 

“I just…” Flash paused, for a moment, shifting to lean against the wall Peter’s bed was lined up against, “I just… I don’t even remember why we started fighting. Then you said something about Harry and I got angry and I said that thing about Rose, and it wasn’t fair.”   
  
“Yes it was.”   
  
“No it wasn’t,” His friend said, firmer, “No. It wasn’t, Peter. Everyone who knows you knows how devoted you are to Rose. Everyone knows how much you value and love the two of you’s relationship. Me saying you don’t love Rose was out of line and cruel.”   
  
“Am I a bad soulmate for finding Harley attractive?”   
  
“No way. Harley’s an attractive dude. You’re not a bad soulmate at all. Besides- when you find Rose, you’re going to think he’s way more beautiful than Harley.”   
  
“How do you know?”   
  
“I just do.”   
  
“Am I a bad person?”   
  
“Yes, and no,” Peter was starting to actually come to himself now, watching Flash think, “I think you’ve done bad things. And I know that, if our friends or your dad were here, they’d disagree, but I know you better. I think you’ve done things you’re not proud of. I think you’ve made mistakes that you consider terrible. But do I think you’re a bad person? No.”   
  
Peter sat up, leaning so he was propped up against the same wall, inches away from Flash, “You’re not a bad person either.”   
  
“I was.”   
  
“Yeah, you were,” he linked his pinky with his childhood best friend, like they were still five, “But you’ve gotten better. Ever since we got you out of that house you’ve gotten better. You’re good, Flash.”    
  
“Maybe not good. But getting there.”    
  
“Yeah, I like that. Not good, but getting there.”   
  
They sat like that in silence, just memorizing this moment. Peter wondered what his friend was thinking. Wondered if he was remembering the moments from their childhood that made them them. The sleepovers, the movie nights, the way Flash seemed to become a second nephew for May and Ben and a second son to Tony. He wondered if Flash ever thought about their tryst into boy scouts and how Peter had cried when there was a spider on the floor, and how Flash had to kill it. He wondered if Flash ever thought about how he had been petrified at thunderstorms in the tower, and Peter had to hold his hand all the way through it. 

They were just kids back then. And then they had grown up and the world had gotten complicated and hard and mean and they lost their way from each other. But here they were, sixteen years after they had met, pinky in pinky together. 

They weren’t bad. They were getting to good. 

“Is Harry mad that I punched you?”   
  
“Harry is furious that you punched me. He lectured me for two hours about punching back.”   
  
Peter fought down a laugh, “He’s well aware that the two of us are idiots.”   
  
“We’re very loveable idiots.”    
  
“I know that- does he?”   
  
“Yes, yes he does.”   
  
“Flash?”   
  
“Yeah?”   
  
“Thanks for coming to check up on me.”   
  
“Always, Peter.”   
  
“And Flash?”   
  
“Mhmm?”    
  
“You’re my best friend. I know I say Harley is but-”   
  
“I know, Petey.”   
  
“Okay, Genie.”

The next morning, Harry would come looking for the two of them and find them slumped against each other, asleep, and peaceful. He’d wake them up with a lecture about fighting, and the two of them would feel terribly scolded. Tony would check over Flash then make sure Peter was okay. They would have cricks in their necks all day from sleeping against a wall. 

But right now, the two of them sat and enjoyed the silence. 

  
  


_ met so many faces that / will probably forget me -ajr, Call My Dad _

  
  


There was something stunning about a clear blue sky, with no clouds, and a beaming sun. There was also something so insufferably hot about it. Peeling off his flannel, he wondered why he thought that would be necessary, and not just the tank top he had been wearing under it.

He leaned over his mom's garden, pulling out weeds. She rarely had time for it but it was one of her favorite things on the earth- and now that her soulmate and her had been talking, she liked keeping all the things that made her happy close. Not because her soulmate was one of the things that made her unhappy, but because she didn’t want to lose that connection again. So everything was kept close; the garden, baking, her kids, her soulmate, her books. 

Overall, Harley was just happy that his mom was happy. She was finally getting the attention she deserved, as her and her soulmate were talking just about every moment they could find now. He fought back a smile, remembering how he and Solo had done the exact same thing once. How they had snuck around in class and wrote notes to each other on any available skin. 

He missed his soulmate, he decided as he tore out a tough weed, and he didn’t exactly feel as dependent on him now with these three weeks of break. He had managed to go from needing his soulmate every single time something was even slightly wrong, to being able to handle his own anxieties himself. Of course, that wasn’t to say that that theory had been tested too much. He had only had a few bad anxiety attacks while he’d been here, and no major stressors either. 

Actually the more he thought about it the more grateful he was to Tony for sending him back home. It had healed a wound in him that he wasn’t aware existed. Of course he knew he had baggage about Rose Hill, but after spending three weeks here, he just felt so much lighter. He had been thinking about that a lot lately, how much lighter he felt in any given situation now. If he was honest, he was proud that he had gone from someone who was weighed down by every little thing to this- a boy who could handle his own and be there for himself. 

He did miss his friends though. Often, he found himself wondering what Shuri would think of this or that, or what Flash would do about this, or how Peter was doing. He thought a lot about how Peter was doing- he knew they left off at a very awkward place when he left. Peter was probably still blaming himself, but he didn’t need to be blamed. Harley didn’t care about it anymore. There was no pressure on his chest anymore, no worry that it will happen again now that they knew. 

And who knew anything? Maybe one day, he’d be well enough to swim again. Only with his family. His friends. His Solo, too. 

He hummed to himself, working on evening out the dirt now. His Solo. Harley was just about ready to start talking to his soulmate every moment of every day again, he missed him so much. Even without being dependent on him anymore, there was a part of him that would always need and want Solo with him, no matter what. He just… loved his soulmate. 

Turning his attention to the small section of garden dedicated to strawberries, he hummed, going to grab the basket to start picking them. The fruit was ripe and red and beautiful. In the back of his mind, he wondered if he should save some and bring it back with him to New York at the end of this last week. Deciding that he would, he left a good few still on the vine, waiting for them to ripen more. His friends would probably call him a country boy, he mused, fighting down a smile, but they’d love the strawberries anyway. They were just sweet- 

“Keener!”    
  
Despite the summer heat, a chill ran up his spine. He swallowed, looking up, forcing himself to keep his voice steady, “Elijah.”    
  
That seemed to startle EJ. No one in town but his ma ever called him Elijah, and certainly not the town queer. Harley took in the other boy and relaxed slightly. He wasn’t with his usual pack of cronies, or the football team, it was just him and EJ. 

“So the town faggot’s back,” EJ called after a second, voice mocking, “What, they decide you’re too ugly and gay for them up in New York?”    
  
Harley let the words wash over him, and found that they didn’t hurt him as much anymore. Maybe it was because his friends had voiced that he was attractive, maybe it was because a majority of them were gay, or maybe it was simply because he’d stopped being affraid, “No. I came back for my Ma. I’m heading up again later, so you ain’t gotta worry about me being around to harass.”    
  
“Aw, you ain’t no fun  _ Keener _ ,” EJ spat the name, coming to stand in front of the strawberry patch, “You telling me you don’t like having fun with the boys?”   
  
“That's exactly what I’m telling you Elijah,” He stood, and even though he was half a foot shorter than the other boy, something had changed in their dynamic. EJ didn’t have all the power anymore, “I don’t think your bullying, harassment, and treatment of me was fun.”   
  
Despite the shift in power, EJ didn’t back down, “Shut the fuck up, Keener- and stop calling me that.”   
  
“Calling you what,” Harley’s brow raised, “Elijah? You want me to stop calling you the name that your ma gave you? Grow up.”    
  
“You little-”    
  
He wasn’t scared. Maybe he should have been scared. Maybe he should have been petrified. Maybe he should have been cowering away. Maybe he shouldn’t be talking back, like how he didn’t talk back that day at the creek. But something had changed. 

EJ hadn’t changed. EJ was still the same bully he always was. But something in  _ Harley  _ had changed. Something had changed in him, so profoundly, that he didn’t think he could ever go back to being the boy who just sat there and took the abuse he got. 

“Little what?” Interrupting EJ was something he never would have done, once upon a time, but now, the words flowed out of him, “Little fag? Little fairy? Little homo? Little  _ what,  _ Elijah?”   
  
EJ faltered, and Harley pressed on, “You need some new material. You need to acknowledge the fact that you’re nothing but a coward who picks on people with less power than you because you’re afraid that without power, no one will care about you. And you know what the saddest part is, Elijah? I don’t think anyone does.”    
  
“You don’t know a damn thing, Keener,” EJ’s cheeks reddened, “You don’t know what you're talking about! If no one cares about me then I’d hate to see how everyone thinks of you!”   
  
“You don’t have to see it,” Harley shrugged, standing taller than he ever had in front of the bully, “Because I have people who tell me what they think of me. I have a best friend who thinks I’m funny, and tells me I’m brilliant. I have another friend who says I’m one of the smartest people in her life. I have a friend who thinks I’m cunning and sweet, and another that thinks I’m clever, and another that loves how I care. You don’t have to see how everyone in my life thinks about me- I already know. And I know that they love me. I know that they care about me.”    
  
The words felt like a healing balm on the last ends of his burnt soul, “So I don’t really care about your insults and what you’ve done to me. Sure- you fucked me up good. But I have something you don’t. I have people that would do anything for me, and who I’d do anything for. I have people who see me for who I am. I have people that take me in stride. I have people that love me. Who do you have?”    
  
“You- fucking-” Swallowing down anger, EJ stormed towards him, probably going for a fight, “Shut up Keener!”    
  
“No.” The ice in his voice made EJ freeze, “No, I won’t shut up. You silenced me, man. You won for so long- I was silent and scared and you know what? I’m not scared anymore. I’m not  _ silent,  _ anymore. I will never be silent again. And you know what, you’re right; I’m gay!”    
  
EJ jerked hard, flying back, “Keener- I’m warning you-” 

“No, Elijah! I’m gay! I’m a faggot!”    
  
“You little-”    
  
“I’m not scared of it anymore,” His voice was strong, “I’m gay! I like boys! My soulmate’s a boy! I love him! I’m  _ gay-”  _

“Keener, I’m warning you to shut up!”    
  
“No! You don’t get to silence me anymore!”    
  
“You-”    
  
Harley stepped forward, invading his space, “You are a pathetic little coward! You pick on people who are different for no reason other than you can!”   
  
“You fucking-” EJ tried to move backward, but was stopped by the pole of the tomato plants, “Get away from me, fag!”    
  
“Admit it! Admit you’re a coward! Admit you’re an awful, good for nothing, no one!”    
  
“Keener-” 

“No! Face your fucking truth, Elijah! Just like you forced me to face mine!”    


The next few moments happened in slow motion, even in Harley's head. EJ jerked forward, hands moving to cup Harley’s face, to pull him into a kiss. His body reacted before anything else could, fist slamming into the other boys cheek, knocking him down. 

He stumbled back. 

His mind was spinning. EJ had tried to kiss him. EJ, who had bullied him for years, who had made living a hell on earth, who always singled him out as the town queer had tried to kiss him. EJ, who never showed his soulmates writing when he was a kid. EJ, who was always really quiet about it. EJ, who was vocal about what kind of women he liked. EJ, who slept with every girl willing in school. 

Elijah, who was just like Harley. 

“You,” His voice was trembling, “You have taken my childhood. You have drowned me. You have bullied me. You have forced me to be afraid. You have taken my passion and my love of life, and everything. You almost took my life. You don’t get to take that. You don’t get to take my first kiss.”   
  
EJ stared up at him in horror, and a surge of pity flew through him. But he didn’t pity EJ. No matter how pitiable this moment was, he didn’t pity EJ. He didn’t pity EJ at all. This boy had willingly singled out Harley instead of just not bullying at all. He had seen that he was different, but instead of protecting those who were like him, he hurt everyone around him. He made that choice. Maybe it was a choice out of fear, but he still did that. And Harley would never feel pity for those who hurt others. 

He breathed out shakily, “I’m done here.”    
  
Turning his back on EJ felt like closing a chapter of his life. It didn’t feel so much like an ending, as much as the beginning of something that he desperately needed. If realizing he had his friends’ love had been coming out of the water and breathing air, turning his back to EJ had been braving the water anyway. 

He was done being a victim and he was done being someone’s chew toy. He was Harley Keener. He was seventeen. He was gay. He was in love with his soulmate. He was himself. 

And every person in the world that was like Elijah James Reynolds couldn’t take that away from him. 

  
  


_ i wanna go home -ajr, Call My Dad _

  
  


“I’m not nervous,” Peter protested to his dad, “I’m not! We’ve been texting a lot, and I just- I miss him! I want to see him again!” 

His dad raised a pointed brow, “You’re chewing at your nails.” 

“No I’m not!” He shifted his hands away from his mouth to tap on the seam of his jeans. 

“Yes you were. Why are you so nervous, kid, it’s just Harley?”    
  
Just Harley? This wasn’t  _ Just Harley-  _ this was Peter reuniting with his best friend. Peter seeing the person that he cared about almost more than anything. Peter seeing the boy who meant almost the world to him. Peter seeing Harley, who he had hurt. 

Rather than elaborate on all of this, he shook his head, eyes going wide, “There’s the plane.”

The two watched in anticipation as the plane touched down and came to a stop. Peter held his breath, but he couldn’t hold back, jerking out of the car with all his speed. Harley was on that plane. He watched as the plane descended its stairs, and ran faster. Harley came out of the plane, flying down the stairs. 

And then, Harley was in Peter’s arms. Peter pressed his face into Harley’s hair, kissing it very softly, clutching at the other boy, “You’re back.”   
  
“I’m home,” Harley whispered, pressing closer to him, “I’m home.”    
  
For the first time in weeks, Peter felt like he was home too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really hope you like it. Thanks to Ava for betaing it!! 
> 
> hit me up @ Peachy-Keener and leave a comment down below


	7. Your Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter Parker-Stark was his soulmate. 
> 
> Peter Parker-Stark was Spider-Man. 
> 
> Peter Parker-Stark was his Solo. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to Ava. After all; this is your song, baby. I love you. 
> 
> Thank you so much to Sarah for beta reading this chapter! And everything that went into it! 
> 
> Triggerwarning now, spider-man does get shot but only a liddol bit and towards the end of the chapter. 
> 
> Last Chapter: Harley went back to Rose Hill, Peter and Flash got into a fight, Harley stood up to his childhood bully, and finally came home.

_if i was a sculptor / but then again no -elton john, Your Song_

  
  


Peter woke up comfier than he had in years. 

The light in his room looked like filtered gold, when he finally blinked open his eyes. It was more than just the light though, as he shifted and realized that part of the reason he was so comfortable was because he was spooning Harley from behind. If the light looked like gold, Harley’s hair looked like something from a fairy tale. 

He shifted back a bit, smiling softly. Last night, he and Rose had talked for hours, and by the time they were ready to go to bed, Peter had been too on edge to sleep. He snuck into Harley’s room- where the other boy was barely asleep himself- and they had opted to watch a movie together, in Peter’s room, cozying up and curling around each other. It was absolutely perfect. 

A perfect night was always gonna be a long conversation with his love, and a good hang out with his best friend, he mused sleepily. 

His room smelt like Harley too. Maybe that was just the way Harley’s shampoo smelled, but the marshmallow and rose scent was absolutely wonderful to wake up too. He might just have to steal whatever kind of shampoo the other boy was using because it genuinely was one of the best smelling things in the world in his opinion. Peter hoped it would stick to his bedsheets because he could probably always fall asleep to the soothing smell of Harley’s bath products. 

Shaking the creepy thought out of his mind, he pulled back; only for Harley to pull with him. The other boy shifted in his sleep, turning full circle so he was facing Peter. Legs tangled, together, in the softest sort of way, Harley was pressed to his chest, hair tickling Peter’s nose. He sank into the feeling, shifting his arm around his best friend, and zoned in on the sound of his heartbeat. 

Harley had an irregular heartbeat- like his dad- but the sound might have been the nicest thing he had ever heard in the entire world. An offbeat ba-dump. A soothing melody of out of line notes. It was enough to almost lull him back to sleep. 

Almost. 

For now though, he was going to stay awake, hands tracing the lines of Harley’s arm’s and the curve of his back. The freckles on his neck. The slope of his jaw. The way the morning light liked to halo his hair…. Peter could have taken a million photos of just this scene. Of just how Harley looked in the morning light. Of him. 

The thought had crossed his mind a lot lately; he knew that Harley was one of his favorite subjects to photograph, but he was thinking about a portfolio on the other boy. He was sure he could win some sort of award for photography through the scholastic arts program if he submitted a few of Harley doing what Harley did. 

Cooking, singing, building. Laying here in the sunshine, lashes casting small shadows. Freckles looking very much like kisses from angels. Golden curls framing his face like a disney princess. Every small little detail about Harley in this moment was beautiful. 

He was a photographer at heart, and an artist by habit, and all he wanted to do was capture this moment. Capture the bliss of sleep on Harley’s face. The way that his brow was perfectly lax, and his eyelids were fluttering softly, and his lips were pink and soft looking. Peter didn’t know how Harley did it- every time he woke up, he felt like he needed to apply chapstick to his dry lips, but Harley’s looked soft and delicate. 

His body acted before his mind, and he froze as he found himself cupping Harley’s cheek, thumb hovering over his lips. 

No. No. This was totally straight and very platonic, they were just two bro’s sleeping in the same bed after a long night cuddle session and he would not betray his rose like that. Who cared if Harley’s skin felt soft and looked creamy and had thousands of adorable freckles on it? What mattered was that Peter had his very own soulmate to look forward to kissing, and that soulmate wasn’t Harley keener. 

Holding a breath, he gently removed his hand, relaxing when the action seemed to not disturb the other boy. Peter would just have to muse over the fact that his friend looked like a piece of art found in a museum some other time, because now he needed to get out of this bed and deal with his problems and crush down the budding softness he felt for Harley. Flash had said everyone thought Harley was hot- he was no exception and he was not bad for having a minor crush on the other boy. 

“..lo…” Harley mumbled, breathing still even. 

Peter’s heart sped up at the cute little sound. He hadn’t noticed before but apparently this boy was a sleeptalker and god, what a wonderful little fact to know about someone. The intimate knowledge that they talked in their sleep, vocalizing their dreams and thoughts and feelings. What an amazing insight to have on someone. Just… Peter couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have a friend like Harley. 

Here was this boy that had been through hell and came back alive, and he was with Peter. He was with Peter. He was really there, in Peter’s arms, breathing out soft and slow, and making Peter realize how much this person mattered to him. How amazing was that? How fantastic was it to know that this person was here in his life?   
  
And now he knew Harley slept talk. And that in the mornings he looked like a princess. And that he was absolutely stunning all the time. And that Peter wanted to take thousands of photos of him. And that if Peter could dedicate his life to capturing the small moments of Harley Keener he was sure that he would. He knew a lot about Harley and him.

“So…” The other boy mumbled again, pressing close to Peter, “...mhm…”

Peter responded in stride, gently tightening his arms around Harley’s waist and kissing his hairline. If there was a way to wake up, this was it. Secretly, he was imagining that this was Rose in his arms. He knew that Harley wasn’t his rose- he would know by now if he was- but this feeling of intimacy was nice. 

Closing his eyes he let himself picture the future. 

His Rose would be splayed out in their bed when he got back from being Spider-Man fast asleep, breathing softly, and bare shoulders. Peter would take time to shower, before coming to slip into bed. Even in sleep, his Rose would shift towards him, and Peter would gladly take him in his arms, holding him tight and making sure he knew that Peter was there. Maybe he’d just lie there some nights. Maybe he’d hold onto his Rose and kiss his shoulders and relish the feeling of his soulmate in his arms. Maybe he’d fall asleep peacefully. He knew whichever one it was that he would love it. 

Rose would wake up before him, and Peter would sleep in late, and he’d stay there, watching Peter breath because he didn’t get to see his soulmate fall asleep. Rose would hum softly, and gently chide him- despite the fact he was asleep- for staying out so late. Maybe Peter would wake up to his Rose tracing patterns on his chest, or kissing his jaw, or reading a book. Any way he woke up would be perfect as long as his Rose was there waiting for him to wake up. 

When they were both finally awake and ready to face the day, they would lay in each other's arms for just a little more, pressed chest to chest, breathing in each other's air. Slowly, they’d talk about the day and what they were planning to do, or maybe smaller things, like the morning weather, or what was for breakfast, or whether they should get a dog or a cat. Mostly, Peter thought, they’d just relish in being with each other. 

He’d try to get up first, because they have to go out and face the world sometimes, and Rose would pull him back in bed. He’d kiss Peter dizzy and they’d stay like that for a few more minutes, just kissing each other lazily and softly. Finally, Rose would get up first, offering a cheeky grin and teasing Peter about being lazy even though he was the one who didn’t want to get out of bed. Peter would watch him walk away to the bathroom with a smile on his face and a blush on his cheeks. 

Slowly, they’d get dressed and eat breakfast together. Peter would burn the toast, and Rose would make fun of him, and it’d be soft, with golden light streaming through every single window, highlighting their love for each other. They’d go their separate ways after breakfast. Peter going to the company, Rose to wherever he wanted to work, and they’d write little notes to each other as the day goes on. He’d miss his rose every second he wasn’t spending with him, but it would be magical. 

Finally, he’d come home. Peter would try to cook dinner, all the food would turn out terrible in one way or another. He’d try to save it, making it even more inedible. When Rose would get home, he’d laugh and kiss Peter’s cheek for trying. Peter would flush and feel like the luckiest boy in the entire world, and Rose would go to the kitchen. They’d spend the rest of the evening cooking together; Rose actually making the food, and Peter watching Rose. It would be absolutely perfect. They’d finally sit down to eat dinner really late, and Rose would ask if he was Spider-man’ing tonight or if one of the other avengers was covering his shift. 

Peter would waggle his eyebrows and make a dirty joke that would make rose laugh, then Rose would inform him he was hoping that they could watch a Star Wars movie tonight. They’d laugh and joke about what they could do after the movie, but then they’d settle down at the T.V. with bowls of ice cream and a fuzzy blanket, and find themselves debating about whether they should watch the original trilogy or the prequels. Eventually, Rose would win out, and Peter would be stuck watching Episode two but he wouldn’t be all that upset because they’d finish their ice cream and Rose would curl into his arms to cuddle. 

Maybe they would fall asleep like that. Maybe Rose would, and Peter would gently pick him up after the movie was over and bring him to their bedroom. He’d kiss the freckles on Rose’s brow, and softly shake him awake so they could get ready for bed. They’d brush their teeth together, and get ready together, and lay down in each other's arms. 

They wouldn’t fall asleep for a while though- choosing to stay up, talking softly about the future. Maybe they’d talk about wanting kids, or maybe they’d talk about moving into a newer apartment, or something domestic and quiet. They’d fall asleep to the sound of each other's voices, and the next morning, Peter would wake up first instead. And the cycle would repeat. A life of bliss and happiness next to his soulmate. Being with him, day in and day out, through thick or through thin, come hell or high water, and they’d be together. 

Maybe in the far future they would have kids. A little girl, with dark brown hair and brilliant blue eyes and dozens of freckles. Or a little boy with blonde curls and hazel eyes. Maybe a daughter with a shy smile, or a son with a loud laugh. They’d be happy, the family he’d build with Rose. The family they would make together. They would be happy and Peter and Rose would be fantastic parents. 

They’d watch their babies grow up, go off, get married, and have kids of their own. They’d do it all hand in hand. His Rose would kiss all his wrinkles away, and when they got old enough, Peter would retire and so would Rose and they’d move out to the countryside. They’d stargaze and Peter would spend all his time on photography and take up knitting. He’d be terrible at it but Rose would always wear the scarfs he made. 

Slowly, Peter was falling asleep again, planning out the life he and Rose would have. His Rose. His Rose. His Harley… and then he was fast asleep.

_i don't have enough money but if i did / id buy a big house where we both could live -elton john, Your Song_

“Okay first of all, you’re totally wrong,” Harley poked Flash’s side, “That number should have carried and that calculation is completely incorrect. You fucked it up dude, you fucked it up majorly. Second of all, I am not in love with Spider-Man and the fact that you and everyone else keeps insisting that is terrible and awkward. We’re just two dudes who met on the roof of the tower twice a week to trade tech and stories.”   
  
Flash scowled at his summer homework, “You’re an asshole Keener- and if you and Spider-Man aren’t in love then me and Harry are mortal enemies.”   
  
“Hey now,” Harry poked his head out from the book he was reading, “We can be mortal enemies and still love each other. Like a detective married to a mob boss. You know?”   
  
“Am I the detective or are you?”   
  
“Obviously you. I’m the one with the fashion sense to be a mob boss.”   
  
“Okay, you two, stop flirting,” Harley interjected, “We get it, Harry reads all the fanfiction his fangirls from instagram writes about you two. Now, let's get back to summer homework.”   
  
Scowl returned to his face, Flash shot him a nasty look, “I hate summer homework, and I’m giving up school to become a stripper.”   
  
Harry barked out a laugh, flushing slightly- clearly at the idea of his soulmate as a stripper- but Harley just rolled his eyes. He was used to his friend’s complaints about school, and summer work, and the fact it was already almost back to school time. 

“If you hate it so much, you should have done it when me and Peter did it.”  
  
“If you hate it so much, you should have done it when me and Peter did it,” Flash mocked, sticking his tongue out at the other boy, “You two are uber nerds, you know that?”   
  
“Actually, baby,” Harry leaned across the table to kiss Flash’s jaw, before pulling back and thumbing to the next page in his book, “I finished the school work with them too. It just seemed smart to get it done before we only had two weeks left of summer.”   
  
“I hate you.”   
  
“I know.”

Harley fake gagged, “Both of you, stop flirting. Flash- do you want my help with robotics or not?”  
  
“Yes, I do want your help,” The other boy turned to him, in a lame attempt to copy Peter’s famous puppy eyes, “I want you to do it all for me.”   
  
Considering his options he shrugged, “Fine, but you do my laundry for the week.”   
  
“I’m okay with that. As long as you haven’t been dreaming about Spider-Man fu-”   
  
“Flash! Shut up!”   
  
“Ouch! No need to hit me! I’m speaking the truth!”   
  
Harley hit him again. 

“Hey guys-” Peter paused as he walked in the room, face going blank, “Why is Harley hitting Flash and why are you just recording it Harry?”  
  
Harry looked up, and gave a cheerful grin, “They’ve been having a debate about Harley’s crush on Spider-man again. Harley just keeps denying he wants to get webbed up and fucked kinkly on a roof top by Spider-Man, and you know Flash can’t stand for liars.”   
  
“I’m not lying!” He felt his ears burn, “All my feelings for Spider-Man are completely platonic!” 

Flash popped up from where he’d been pushed off a chair, “So you _admit_ that there are feelings?”

“I hate you!”   
  
“Okay, okay,” Peter’s face was pink, as he restrained Harley from lunging at Flash, “Come on, you need a time out.”   
  
Spluttering, Harley struggled to get out of his grip, “I need a time out?! I’m not the one who keeps implying one of my friends is lusting over a well respected and awesome superhero!”   
  
Peter sighed sharply, and then did something that Harley would not have expected from him. The other boy picked him up and tossed him over his shoulder like he was a sack of potatoes. Harley registered the sounds of Flash and Harry roaring to life with laughter but his mind was frozen. 

What the fuck. 

What the _fuck._

“Peter Benjamin Parker-Stark!” He flailed, struggling against his friend, “Let me down!”  
  
“Nope. You need a time out.”   
  
He hit Peter’s back as hard as he could without hurting the other boy, “You’re a menace to society, Parker!”   
  
“You have no idea,” Peter told him, hand moving to pinch the back of his thigh, which Harley desperately tried to ignore, “And besides, this way you don’t have to deal with Flash trying to do work and you can just hang out with me!”   
  
“So this was your plan to drag me away from our friend who needs my help with school,” Calming considerably, he took in the great view he had from here he was hanging, “Throw me over your shoulders like I’m Santa's bag of toys.”   
  
“I prefer to think of it as a pirate stealing a princess,” He could hear Peter’s grin, “Wouldn’t you agree, my princess?”   
  
“I’m going to kill you.” 

“Incorrect,” Peter set him down gently, hands falling to his waist, “You love me and I’m your best friend.”   
  
Harley’s heart sped up. Peter’s hands were warm through the cloth of his shirt, and he was looking at Harley with those sparkly hazel eyes, and that soft smile, and god dammit Harley was just a man. He was just a simple man in a simple world with simple wants and needs; right now he needed to get Peter’s hands off him or he would do something he’d regret. 

Slipping out of the grip, he moved away, “Alright, alright, dweeb. What movie are we watching?”  
  
“Movie,” Peter slipped past him grinning, throwing himself on the bed, and then holding up two x-box controllers, “Who said anything about movies?”   
  
“You’re even dweebier than usually,” Harley grinned, sitting next to him, taking one remote, “What game?”   
  
“Mario Kart 8 Deluxe.”   
  
“You’re going down, Parker, and I want you to know that.”   
  
“You wish, Keener!”   
  
Harley pressed closer to his friend, picking his character with grace and ease. No matter what everyone else said, Princess Peach rocked and he loved her. Peter, the dweeb he was, picked yoshi, and then they were off.   
  
After an entire morning of arguing with Flash and coaching him through the summer homework, Harley would admit that it was really really nice to just be hanging out with his friend playing a game. It was relaxing to be with Peter after a long day of learning. It was always relaxing, whether he was playing video games, watching a movie, or they were just scrolling on their phones in silence. 

It also helped Peter was one of the only ones that didn’t constantly tease him about his crush on Spider-Man. 

“So,” Peter drawled awkwardly, focusing on the screen, “What _is_ going on between you and Spidey?”   
  
Harley went bright red, and elbowed him, “Not you too!”   
  
“I’m not teasing you! Or saying you like him! Just.. that you know.. You two talk every night on the roof, and you’re always building things for him, and you know..”   
  
“Okay, okay,” His nose scrunched as he raced past mario on the screen, “We’re friends.”   
  
“Yeah but like what do you think about him?”   
  
“What do you mean?”   
  
“Like- do you think he’s cool? Awesome? Funny? Hot?”   
  
Pressing pause on the game, Harley turned to look at his friend. At least Peter had the good enough sense to look mortified, “Peter. Who’s putting you up to this?”   
  
“No one!” He protested, clearly fighting the urge to hide his face in his hands, “I’ve just noticed that you two are getting really close and I was wondering what all of that was about.”   
  
“Fine. You really wanna know?”   
  
“Yes.”   
  
He hesitated, “If you tell Flash, I’ll kill you.”   
  
“Scouts honor, I promise that I won't.”   
  
“Okay,” He hesitated again, harder, “He comes to the roof, and we talk about tech, and um… he calls me beautiful. He tells me things like he thinks I’m the prettiest boy in the world. He’s constantly picking me up flowers, or getting me a churro now days before he heads to the tower. He thinks I’m clever, and he compares me to Belle from beauty and the Beast because he says I’m beautiful and smart.”   
  
Harley’s cheeks were warming by the second as he thought more about what his soulmate had been saying, “He constantly is trying cheesy pick up lines on me. His favorite one is to ask me if I was a camera because I make him smile. He told me once that he wanted to take pictures of me in the moonlight because I was so stunning. He’s just… no one but my soulmate has ever treated me like he does.” He bit his cheek to keep from spilling that Spider-Man was his soulmate, “And it makes me feel good. He makes me feel good.”   
  
“Oh,” Peter was staring at him with eyes filled with an unreadable emotion, “So you are in love with him like Flash says?”   
  
“No. I’m in love with my soulmate,” they just happen to be the same person, he ended the sentence in his head. 

Peter nodded slowly, “But you don’t mind that he flirts with you?”  
  
“Not at all,” He fought back a flush, “I actually look forward to it. It's like- I know my soulmate’s gonna see me and think all that stuff but the fact someone else does is nice too.”   
  
“A lot of people think that stuff about you.”   
  
“Really? Name one.”   
  
“I think you’re beautiful,” Peter said awkwardly, “Like… seriously. You’re one of my favorite people to photograph and you’re always doing things with a kind of subtly in it. It's really nice.”   
  
If his cheeks weren’t red before they were now. His mind was spinning, “I think your beautiful too- er- handsome.”   
  
“You do?”   
  
“Of course I do.”   
  
They stared at each other. Peter thought he was beautiful. Peer thought he was beautiful. He had told Peter that he was handsome. They found each other attractive. Why did the thought of Peter finding him attractive send a thrill up Harley’s spine? Why did the knowledge that Peter loved photographing him make Harley’’s heart burst?   
  
Somehow, his eyes flicked to Peter’s lips. In a truth or dare, once, he’d been dared to kiss Peter. ‘Kiss the person on your right.’ he’d kissed Peter’s cheek. But how would it feel to kiss Peter? Right here, right now, how would it feel to lean forward and kiss the other boy?   
  
Peter was leaning in too, closer, and closer. Harley licked his lips on instinct and he saw Peter’s eyes trace the motion. What if they kissed? What if they kissed? They could kiss. 

Something inside him wanted too. Something inside him was begging him to lean forward and kiss the other boy. It’d be a perfect first kiss. It’d be one of those things where you trust someone so much that romance just naturally followed- because he did trust Peter. He trusted Peter so damn much. And he’d be okay with Peter kissing him. Peter could kiss him. 

His mind jerked. No. No- he shouldn’t kiss Peter. He had to think about Solo. He had to think about Solo and Peter’s soulmate and he wasn’t going to do this to them. He _couldn’t._   
  
He swallowed, pulling away, “We should uh, we should-”   
  
“Finish the game, yeah,” Peter coughed awkwardly, “Sorry.”   
  
“You have nothing to be sorry for.”   
  
“Okay.”   
  
After all, it was Harley who had started to lean in first. 

  
  


_it's a little bit funny / this feeling inside -elton john, Your Song_

  
  


He had almost kissed Harley. He had leaned in, and Harley took the cue to lean in after him, and they were going to kiss before Harley had pulled away. And he had been _disappointed_ when Harley pulled away. 

It was just- Harley had been talking about how Spider-Man, about how Peter, was making him feel, and then he had said that stupid thing and all Peter could think was that he needed Harley to know that _he_ thought Harley was beautiful. That it wasn’t just his alter ego that thought Harley Keener was beautiful because he thought Harley was beautiful. 

And then he had glanced at Harley’s lips and all he wanted to do was kiss those pink lips just to know how it felt. And then Harley had pulled away. And he had been _disappointed_

Peter felt like he was going to be sick. He reached for a pen, _Rose._

 _Baby?_ _  
_ _  
_ _Can i talk to you about something?_ _  
_ _  
_ _Always, Solo,_ Rose’s pen faltered, _are you okay?_

_No. Yes. I don’t know. Just- you promise not to hate me._

He could almost hear Rose’s sharp inhale, _Solo. I promise you one thing; I don’t know where life will take us in a few years. I don’t know what I’ll be doing after highschool, or where I’m going to college, or what I want to do with my life, but I swear to you this and now. No matter what happens, I will never ever hate you. I could never hate you. I will_ _never_ _hate you. Do you understand?_ _  
_ _  
_ _Yes, but you dont,_ he wanted to cry. His soulmate placed so much love in him and instead of cherishing that he was here thinking about kissing Harley, _Rose, I almost kissed my friend. He’s just- he’s really pretty. And he was talking about how no one but his soulmate would think that, and then I said I thought he was pretty and one thing led to another and we were both leaning in. I’m so sorry Rose- I’m so sorry. You’re the love of my life, and I never meant to cheat on you or hurt you or anything-_

_Oh my god you idiot, thats it?? Thats what you’re all worked up about??_

_I’m so sorry._

_Solo,_ Peter fought the urge to trace the cursive, _I love you. You are my one true love. But you’re allowed to be attracted to other people. We’re just sixteen. It’s okay if we’re attracted to other people right now. We never actually said that you and I are dating. So this wasn’t cheating. This was you being attracted to a friend, and thats okay. Now if you actually kissed him, I’d be a little upset because we’ve talked about waiting for each other and saving all our firsts, but its okay. I love you._

Peter let out a soft sob, _so you’re not mad?_ _  
_ _  
_ _No. Absolutely not. I’d be a hypocrite if I was mad!_

_You would be?_

_Solo, baby, I have the worlds biggest crush on Spider-Man,_ Peter fought back a laugh. Rose had a crush on him, _so of course I’m not mad. You’re my end game. But we could take forever to get to the endgames, so if we have crushes on people now, its not that bad. I’m actually really relieved you also have a crush on someone. It just.. Makes me feel less guilty about finding people attractive._

_You don’t have to be guilty for that. We said when we talked about what we wanted our relationship to be that we were allowed to be attracted to people as long as we were each others firsts. And I already know I’m your first and last love, my Rose, so you don’t have to worry about falling for anyone else._

Rose drew a small heart next to the words, _Well you don’t have to worry either. All the pretty boys in New York City couldn’t take me away from you. You’re my entire world, Solo, and I’m happy like that. If a pretty boy does catch my eye once and awhile, I stop and think about you. Even friends that I have tiny, baby, lil, crushes on don’t compare to_ _you_ _. We’ve said it before and I will gladly say it again; you are the man I’m going to marry. You are the boy that I will spend the rest of my life with. We’re going to own a nice apartment in New York, and have three kids, and enjoy our lives together. But thats a long way off. So while I’m not comfortable with the idea of you or me kissing other people, I think that even if we did, we’d come back to each other._

 _We will come back to each other,_ Peter kissed the soft cursive, _in fact, I don’t think I’ll need to come back. I don’t think I’ll ever leave. I know we’ve never formally said that you and I are dating, because we want to wait until we meet to put a full label on it, but I need you to know something. I need you to know that you are my beginning and my end and till the day I die my hearts going to be filled with love for you. You’re my world. You’re what I want to wake up to every morning, and who I want to fall asleep with every night. My friends- the soulmate pair that fights a lot- dated other people before they realized what they wanted from each other. We’ve skipped that step and that makes me really happy. Knowing that I can always be with you makes me happy._

_I am in love with you, Solo. I want you to know that._

_I’m in love with you too._

_You make me happy,_ Rose’s hand writing filled Peter with so much love, _You make me feel like I’m the luckiest person in the world. You make me feel whole. I want to be with you, Solo, only you. No matter who else comes into our lives you’re_ _it_ _for me. You’re my world. You’re the light that’s always been there. I chose you. I want to be with you._

Peter let off a soft laugh, _I choose you too. Pretty boys be damned, you’re it for me. I have this constant reoccuring dream where we’re eighty and you’ve convinced me to move to the country side next to this little lake, and we’re waiting for our grandkids to come around and show us their kids and you and I are happy because we’ve spent our lives together. You’re the love of my life, Rose. I will always choose you. I’m sorry I almost kissed my friend though._

 _Don’t be. Don’t be sorry. I’m glad you told me,_ Rose drew nother heart next to his words, _You didn’t do anything wrong, love. you ‘re allowed to want other people too. I’m just glad we’ve come to the understanding that we’re it for each other, really. That no one else in the world will make us happier than we make each other. I’m still not ready to meet… but maybe after the school year starts. A month or two from then. Would that be okay?_

 _  
_ _Yes._ He felt his heart pound, _Yes. But you don’t have too if you’re still uncomfortable. We don’t have to meet to know we love each other, Rose. We really don’t. We could wait as long as you want, okay? As long as you want._

 _I know. But I don’t want to wait. This conversation… who I am now… everything I have in my life now, has shown me that I am ready to meet you. I want to meet you. This entire conversation proves to me that no matter what happens in our lives that we’ll love each other. Even more than that, ever since awhile ago, I’ve been on such a good track with healing. Now that I’m back here, in New York again, and living my best life that I can, I want to meet you. I’m ready to meet you and spend my life with you. I’m ready for that. Are you?_ _  
_ _  
_ The question pooled in his gut. Was he ready to meet Rose? Ready to see the boy that he had spent his entire life with and loved more than anything? Was he really ready to meet him. 

_I’ve been ready for years,_ he decided on his answer, _I’ve been ready for years, Rose. I knew way before you that you were the only one I wanted in my life. Even now, where I have a small cursh on my friend, I know that once I meet you that’ll fall away. Because you are the boy that I have wanted since I was a kid. You are my entire world. You are the thing that kept me going in my darkest moments and the person that I love more than anything else. I’ve always wanted to meet you. And the fact that we’re ready to meet is… wow. Wow. Rose, I love you. I love you so much._

 _Well. I’m crying,_ Peter laughed and dried up his own tears, _Solo, you’re my world too. You’ve been my world for a long long time. I love you. I love you so damn much. And I’m really happy we’re taking this step. We’ll need a lot more planning, and thinking, and finding out what our schedules will be like in the next few months but I’m so happy that we’re doing this. That we’re finally doing this._

_So am I, rose my love._

_It’ll be perfect, I think,_ rose continued, _we’ll meet on some day sunny and warm, and its going to be stunning. We’ll see each other from across a park or something, and sprint into each others arms. I don’t think I’ll let you go for a solid twenty minutes. And when we finally do split up, we can talk about everything. Our names. Our families. Who we are beyond the pen. It’s going to be amazing, Solo._

Peter grinned, _Well, what if I want to meet in a cafe, were I can kiss all those freckles you make fun on? Or on a rainy day so we can be kissing in the rain like two movie stars? We’ll have to think about all of our options, here, Rose._

_Oh of course- mayhaps, we should meet at a star wars movie festival._

_Or at comic con. I’ll be Han if you’ll be slave leia?_ _  
_ _  
_ _You’re terrible, Solo, you know that?_ _  
_ _  
_ _I do know that,_ he kissed the way Rose wrote Solo, _but I know that I’m your terror. I know that I’m the boy of your dreams. I know that you think I’m funny. I know that We’re in love- way more in love than anyone else I’ve ever known. And I know that however we meet will be absolutely perfect because it will be us. It will be us, and that will be all that matters. Rose- you’re my endgame. However it happens, however we meet, it’ll be perfect._

 _God dammit, Solo, could you stop being so sappy?_ He could imagine his soulmate whipping his eyes, _You’re making me cry again. I just- I’m overwhelmed with how happy I am. I’m completely overwhelmed with how happy you make me. No one else in the world has ever made me feel like I’m as loved as you do. You just… you make every thing better. Every dark day I’ve ever had, you’ve been the constant sunshine in it. Every time I’m feeling low or sad, you’re there, making me laugh and understanding. Every time I’m angry, you listen to me talk it out. No one in the world is better for me than you. And we’re going to_ _meet._ _Can you believe that? Can you believe that in a little while we’ll be really in each others arms?_ _  
_ _  
_ Peter went to respond, but Rose kept writing, _Just… you’re right. However we meet will be absolutely perfect because ts you and me. Its always been you and me. You and me against the damn world. You and me, man, we’re it for each other and that feel so good to have. That makes me feel so so happy. You’re just… you’re everything. You hung the stars for me, Solo. And for you I’ll catch the moon. I’ll do anything. I love you._

_I love you too, My Rose._

_But seriously, we’re not meeting at a comic con you fucking dweeb._

A laugh bubbled up in his chest and he responded, _you know I don’t think you have any right to call me a dweeb when I know you ship anakin and Padme so much you keep writing fanfic about them. And also you should uhhh tell me your fanfic username._

_Why did you have to bring that up?? We’re having a lovely conversation about our future and you have to bring up my thirteen year old shipping phase._

_Well, Love,_ Peter’s smile hurt his face, _You of all people should know I’m just as guilty when it comes to writing fanfic. Lukehan 4 life._

_That’s gay._

_We’re gay._

_Yes, yes we are,_ Rose drew one more heart, this time around the ‘we’re gay’ Peter had written, _I adore you, Solo. You’re my best friend in the entire world._

_You’re my best friend too._

_I’m getting tired- talk to me till we fall asleep?_

_Of course love._

And Peter did. He scribbled out what their lives were going to be like once they met. He told Rose about their kids, and what they’d look like, and who they’d take after. By the time he was done, he was falling asleep with love in his heart and the future on his mind. 

  
  


_how wonderful life is with you in the world -elton john, Your Song_

  
  


“Okay, okay, okay,” Harley pointed at Flash, “Fuck, Mary, Kill- Green Goblin, Mysterio, and Vulture.”   
  
Flash made a face, and Shuri barked out a laugh, “You did not just ask me to FMK my boyfriend's dad.”   
  
“What about my dad?” Harry slipped into Harley’s room, moving to kiss Flash’s cheek, and pull him into his lap, “He didn’t try to kill Spider-Man again did he?”   
  
“Nope,” flash leaned into the other boy's chest, “Harley asked mer a FMK, and your dad's one of the options.”   
  
Harry fake gagged, “That's disgusting, Harley. I want you to know that.”   
  
“Oh, I know,” Harley grinned, “But I thought I was being funny.”   
  
Flash rolled his eyes, huffing, “Okay, uh, I’d Fuck Mysterio, Marry Vulture, and Kill Green Goblin.”   
  
“And good riddance to that.”   
  
“We should pay Osborn a visit,” Shuri drew from where she was playing a game on her phone, “Maybe vandalize OsCorp tower.”   
  
“Hey! I’m gonna run that company one day,” Harry huffed, defensively, “And return it to how it was when my mom was pulling all the strings. No corruptions, no weird genetic mutations, and no poorly disguised supervillains.”   
  
“Which is admirable,” Shuri shot him a side eye, sitting up to point at him, “But I have three buckets of permanent glitter spray paint that we could use to draw a Spider-Man mask on the side of the building, and Harley’s got those Iron Man themed rocket boots that he’d hiding from Tony, and it’d be really funny.”   
  
Harry got a considerate look on his face, hooking his chin over Flash’s shoulder, “Do you have stuff that removes permanent glitter?”

“Of course.”  
  
“And I could use it after he’s been thoroughly mortified?”   
  
“Yep.”   
  
“Harley,” Harry’s attention turned to him, and he blinked, “We’re the same shoe size right?”   
  
“No. Not at all,” He stood up, moving towards the closet to get out his rocket boots, “But lucky for you I made them size adjustable in case I grow.” 

Shuri grinned, standing up, “well, you boys can have fun playing fuck, mary, kill, me and Harry will be vandalizing public property.”

“Well,” Harley handed the boots to Harry, who had shifted Flash off his lap and Stood up, “Don’t get arrested.”  
  
Shuri deadpanned, “I have diplomatic immunity.”   
  
“Harry doesn’t.”   
  
“Yes, but I have something far more superior,” Harry kissed Flash’s cheek again and sent a wink to Harley, “Money. Laws don’t apply to rich people, you know.”   
  
“You know, the fact that you talk like that is scary,” Flash flopped so he was laying on his bed, “I mean, you’re not lying, but it's still concerning.”   
  
“I recognize.”   
  
Halrey watched the two of them leave his room, and he turned his attention to flash, “And then there were two.”   
  
“Mhmm… where’s Riri and Peter again?”   
  
“Peter’s at May’s and Riri is having some alone time with her sweet sweet Iron Heart armor.”

“Don’t say it like that,” Harley felt his nose wrinkle, and went to go lay down next to Flash, “You make it sound like she’s-”  
  
“You’re a disgusting perv, Keener, you know that?”  
  
“You’re the one whos implying it!”   
  
“Yes but at least I didn’t vocalize it.”   
  
“Why am I friends with you?”   
  
Flash sat up, flashing puppy eyes, “Because you love me. You love me so so very much.”   
  
“Whatever, nerd,” he reached over, flicking Flash’s forehead, “It's your turn.”   
  
“Okay, Okay,” Flash took a second to choose his answer, and when he did, he did it with a sharp grin, and mischievous eyes, “Fuck, mary, kill. Spider-Man, your soulmate, Doc Oc.”   
  
“Oh my god,” He choked out, glaring at the other boy, “You designed that question just so I’d say I’d fuck Spider-Man because you know I’d marry my soulmate and kill Doc Oc. Flash, you little- how many times do I have to say it: I don’t want to fuck Spider-Man.”   
  
“Alright, Alright,” Flash’s grin got wider and infinitely more sharper, “You don’t want to fuck Spider-Man-”   
  
“-thank you-”   
  
“-You want Spider-Man to fuck you,” Flash finished, grin splitting his face. 

Harley took a second to process, and when he did, he grabbed his pillow, and started slamming it into Flash’s face, “I hate you! I hate you! I don’t want Spider-Man to fuck me and I’m not a bottom!”  
  
“Oh really?” Flash, the asshole that he was, wasn’t even trying to fight back, just laughing hard, “That's not what your BSDM.org test results say!”   
  
“I will strangle you! I’m going to kill you! You’re turning me into a murderer!” 

“Good!”   
  
His composure dissolved into laughter, “You’re terrible. I really really hate you.”   
  
“No you don’t,” Flash pulled him back down onto the bed and hummed, “If it wasn’t for our soulmates, Peter, and Spider-Man, we’d totally be in love.”   
  
“Oh obviously,” Harley rolled his eyes so hard, he was surprised they didn’t roll out of his head, “We’re in love now. Our soulmates are just the things that keep us held back, away from each other-” He mimicked a victorian lady, “I’m sorry, Flash my love, I will forever love you, but my evil soulmate keeps us apart!”   
  
Flash snickered hard, making the same voice, “Oh harley, my one true love, I will never forget you! Now begone! Go back on your voyage across the east river! May we see each other again.”   
  
“God, we’re such idiots,” He reached for his phone, “Alright- do we wanna watch a movie?”   
  
“Yes- as long as it's not star wars.”   
  
“You love star wars!”   
  
“Not enough to do a marathon of it every day like you and Peter do,” Flash shot him a look, “Not even close to that much. So we’re not gonna watch Star Wars, we’re gonna find some other good movie to watch. Preferably a rom com.”   
  
“Dweeb.”   
  
“Not my fault me and Harry are running out of date ideas.”

Harley rolled his eyes, stretching out to reach for the TV remote, and turn it on, “Okay so what-”  
  
He froze. Apparently he’d been watching the news last night, because it was open to the news station. Live coverage was going down, a fight in some street, somewhere in Manhattan, and he had turned it on just in time to see Spider-Man get shot once- twice- three- four- he lost count. 

A scream rose in his throat, but he didn’t think he was making any sound. The world was quiet, or maybe it was that the buzz of fear was so loud that he couldn’t hear anything. He watched Spider-Man slump to the ground, and froze. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the screen. He couldn’t. Flash was saying something- voice trembling- but Harley couldn’t look away from the screen, eyes filling with hot tears. 

“No-” He choked, “No- no, no! NO!”   
  
Flash grabbed his shoulders, “Hey, come on, focus on me, Tony’s got him- Harley-”   
  
“No!” Harley scrambled away from Flash’s arms, jerking towards the screen, “NO! NO!”   
  
“Harley!”   
  
“God! Please- No!”   
  
A sharp pain went across his face, and he registered that Flash had slapped him. The other boy was speaking now, “Hey- we have to focus on what we can do. Tony already picked him up, they’re going to the medbay, probably, so we need- we need to stay calm and get ready to help where we can-”   
  
“No- no, you don’t understand-” He couldn’t breath, breath wasn’t registering in his lungs, “You don’t understand- Flash- he’s not- god- no no, he can’t die- he can't die-”

“Harley-”

“No-” The world was spinning, “No- no you don’t understand- he can’t he can’t be dead-”

“Harley!”  
  
“He sent be dead, Eugene!”   
  
“He’s not dead- but we have to calm down-”   
  
“How can I calm down?!” Why couldn’t he breathe, he couldn’t breathe because his soulmate was dying, bleeding out, after having gotten shot so many times that Harley couldn’t count, “My soulmates have been shot! Don’t you dare tell me to calm down!”   
  
Flash went silent, staring at him with wide eyes, “What?”   
  
“My soulmate,” Harley choked, words coming out chunky and uneven, “He- Awhile ago- right before Spidey showed up on the scene- my soulmate got sick- he, he had gone to a Oscorp school trip, and had gotten bitten by a spider- and that night he was delirious with fever, and he started writing about how he was sticking to walls and how he could bend metal- and i never confronted him on it after because I thought that was a fever dream- and then- then- then Spider-Man showed up, and it was such a Solo thing to do that it couldn’t be anyone but- then I started getting small scars from stab wounds and stuff that would be gone the next day and I- he’s my _soulmate-”_

“Oh fuck,” Flash exhaled, clutching at his shoulders, “Well- well- if you’re his soulmate- then you can feel if he’s dead-”  
  
“But i cant feel if he’s dying-” Harley shrieked, entire body shaking again, “I cant tell if he’s dying and he is- he got shot so many times-”

“You need to breath- Fri- Where is Tony?!”  
  
“The boss,” Her voice was concerned, “Has just arrived to the med bay-”   
  
Friday didn’t need to finish the sentence before Harley was running out of the room at the highest speed he could manage in this state. He slammed the elevator button and when it didn’t open automatically, he threw open the door to the tower stairs and flung himself down them. 

He tripped, body moving too fast to stop it. He didn’t care. His palms were bleeding now, and his knee was stinging in pain and he was sure when he stopped moving it would buckle under his pressure, but he didn’t care. His soulmate was dying in the medbay and he needed to be there- he needed to be there-

Jerking, he moved even faster. His chest felt heavy and his lungs were on fire. His face was stinging, prickling with emotion and terror. That’s what he’d describe this debilitating panic ass. Terror. He would describe it as the scariest fucking thing in the entire world. This was worse than anything he had ever been through. 

This was worse than the self harming, the drowning, the bullying. It was worse because when it had happened to him he knew that he could pick himself up and see his soulmate again, have him there and be there for him. And now- now there was a very real possibility that his soulmate was going to die before ever even knowing that Harley had met him. That his Rose had met him. 

All the super healing in the entire world couldn’t heal multiple bullet wounds at once, and his gut was rolling. His Solo. His poor Solo- his angel- his life- his world- he _couldn’t_ die. 

If he died, then Harley would be alone. There would be no happiness, no breathing again, no living, no nothing. There would be no house on a lake somewhere with grandchildren and memories of a long happy life together. There would be no first baby, gurgling at Solo and giggling at Harley. There would be no wedding, no sunset kiss, no white tuxes. There would be no long engagement, or college together, or anything that they wanted. 

Solo couldn’t die. Solo couldn’t die. Solo couldn’t die. Solo couldn’t die. 

He would chant that in his head until it became the truth. HIs soulmate couldn’t _leave him._ Solo couldn’t- they couldn’t- it couldn’t happen-

Slamming into the medbay doors, he let out a small shout at the sight before him, tears hot and rushing down his face. Several doctors- one with glowing hands- were paraded around Spider-Man’s limp body.

The world fell away from him, breath exiting his lungs. That was his soulmate. His soulmate’s limp body was just lying there. He could be dying. Was this what a dead soulmate felt like? This crushing weight on his chest, overwhelming him, making him dizzy, making his eyes hot and red, destroying him from the inside out. 

His body moved on its own. Time seemed to slow down. He still couldn’t hear anything but a slow, sharp pitched buzz. He couldn’t focus on anything but the crimson that was soaking through the spidey suit as the doctors moved to take it off. 

Reaching for his soulmate, the world snapped back into place, someone shouting to get him out of here- but they couldn’t do that- they couldn’t make him leave- not when that was his soulmate-

“No- No- no,” His voice cracked, and he had enough awareness about him to realize Tony was clutching at him, trying to drag him out, “NO!”   
  
Later, he’d be ashamed of it, but now all he could think about was getting to his soulmates body. He kicked at Tony, clawing at the arms dragging him out, screaming for Spidey to wake up, for Solo to wake up. To move. To stop laying there like he was dead. Because he couldn’t be dead- his soulmate wasn’t dead.

“-Harley!” Tony was shaking, tears rushing down his face, “You need to leave- you have to leave the medbay-”  
  
“No! No! You don’t understand-” He sobbed, reaching for his soulmate again, even though Tony had now dragged him out of the glass door of the medbay, “No! He’s my soulmate! You have to let me see him! He’s my soulmate! He’s my solo!”   
  
Tony made a startled noise, “You- Rose?”   
  
“He can’t die,” Harley fought harder against Tony’s arms, not registering that the older man had called him the nickname his soulmate did, “He can’t die- He can’t I can’t lose him! SOLO! PLEASE!” 

“Harley- Rose-” Tony choked, forcing him back further, “You can’t go in there- you can’t- he’s-"  
  
Harley’s knee gave out, entire body heavy in Tony’s arms, dry heaving hard, “No- He’s my soulmate- you can’t take me away from him- I need him- I need him- You don’t understand-”   
  
“I understand!” He finally forced his attention away from Solo, “I understand because my son’s dying too! But we can’t be in there or he’ll die faster- and- and neither of us can lose him.”   
  
If anything could startle him out of his state, it was hearing that Tony’s son was dying too. Tony only had one son. Only one person was dying in the med bay. Harley’s head snapped back to the glass, just in time to see them peel the mask away from Solo’s face.

Peter’s lifeless body was still. 

His eyes were closed. Like he was sleeping. Like this was another morning where Harley had woken up before him. His eyes were closed, but his face was pale. There was a trail of blood pooling out of his mouth. His hair- normally curly and full of life, and fluffy- was matted down with blood. He looked dead. 

Panic was still washing over every single part of Harley, but he couldn’t breath for an entirely different reason this time. 

Peter Parker-Stark was his soulmate. 

Peter Parker-Stark was Spider-Man. 

Peter Parker-Stark was his Solo. 

Of course he was. 

Who else in his life made him happy? Who else in his life made him feel like he was going to burst from joy? Every time he and Solo talked this feeling of warm comfort and pure joy always sparked over him, and whenever he and Peter had been hanging out, the same exact feeling ran over him. Like his soul knew who he was before Harley’s mind caught up. 

How many mornings had he woken up tangled in Peter’s arms, thinking about how that was the best sleep of his life? How many nights had he fallen asleep, zoning in on Peter’s heartbeat? He had always wondered why exactly he had always felt so safe around Peter. Always felt so loved and included and worthy of something beyond sadness. How Peter had made him feel so relaxed, like he was okay. Like he was okay. Like the way Solo had always made him feel.

When they had hung out, Peter had known exactly what he liked and what he wanted. His soulmate knew him better than anyone, both as Solo and Peter. He had taken the broken thing that was Harley and shaped him into a person, with strength and courage and kindness, and he had done that by being both Harley’s best friend and his soulmate. Harley had felt so completed in every single moment they had spent together, because he had been completed.

This is why, he thought numbly, it had destroyed him so badly when Peter had triggered him by pushing him into the pool. Because his soul and body and mind had been at peace with his soulmate for months at that point, and the feeling of betrayal had hit so hard, it hurt his soul. That’s why he had forgiven Peter so easily for the pain that had been caused- because it was impossible to stay mad at someone you ached to be with constantly. 

And the ache- the ache of pain when he had left for Rose Hill again. That hadn’t been because he missed his friend. It was the pain of being separated from his soulmate after he’d been around him constantly. That feeling of loneliness hadn’t been separation anxiety from the people he loved, it had been the emptiness in his soul from missing Peter. It had been his body’s way of portraying how hurt his soul felt. 

God everything suddenly made so much sense. The feelings he had always gotten around Peter; the warmth, the comfort, the love, the happiness, the relaxation, all of that was because they had always loved each other. And when Peter and him almost kissed- of course. They were both in love and it was everything to both of them. They would know each other in death, of course their souls were begging to be closer, and sending signs to their stupid, slow, dumb brains that this was it. That this was everything. 

That this was the endgame. 

Harley’s world was spinning. His soulmate was Peter Parker, who had helped him grow, and made him happy, and proved to him that he was likable. His soulmate was Peter Parker who had always known just how to cheer him up and make him happy. His soulmate was Peter Parker who had always found a way into Harley’s heart. 

His soulmate was Peter Parker who was flatlining before his very eyes.

No. _No._

His entire body felt like it was screaming, every single cell trying to die with his soulmate, the world ripped out from under him. No- he had just learned that Peter was his soulmate- he couldn’t lose him now- he couldn’t. 

Harley had so much to look forward too now- he had Peter to look forward to. To kiss the other boy in the star light, and watching star wars, and going to cons cosplaying as one thing or another. He had his soulmates love to look forward too, and he wasn't letting that go. 

He reached for where his soul met Peter’s. That tingle when they wrote something to each other. That contentedness when Peter was playing with his hair. That passion when Spider-Man flirted with him. He reached for where his soul met Peter’s. 

There was no scientific basis that soulmate’s could feel each other’s souls. Nothing at all to suggest to the scientific world that soulmate’s could reach for each other’s souls. 

But in that moment, he couldn’t let it happen. So he pulled. His eyes were glued on Peter’s lifeless form, but his mind was racing with every single moment he had spent with Peter. He reached into a part of himself he had never seen, something small, and sacred, and good, and laced with so much Peter that he kept reaching, kept tugging.

He focused on all the small things he had come to fall in love with. The way Peter liked to always be moving his hands- biting at his nails, or tapping at his wrist, or fiddling with something. The way Peter watched movies like they were the most interesting things in the entire world. The way that Peter took photos; hands steady, breath soft, just thinking about the beauty of the shot. He thought about how Peter’s hands looked when they were working. About how his eyes lit up when he saw someone he loved. About every little detail that made Harley fall in love with him. He reached again, searching for the part of him that was intertwined with Peter.

Peter’s heart monitor beeped to life, and Harley slumped down to his knees, and let out a sob. 

His Soulmate was alive. 

His Peter was alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank yall so much!! tell me what yall think, and leave a comment down bellow. You can hit me up @ peachy-Keener on tumblr!


	8. Mr. Loverman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Harley,” he whispered, before clearing his throat, “Where- where’s Harley?”
> 
> "He's- he wasn't here, kiddo,” His dad physically faltered, and alarm bells went through his head, “He’s not here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !! second to last chapter!! i have no idea what other fic im writing after this- im torn between a cinderella au and a greek gods au and just a classic harley and peter meets au. maybe a few one shots! 
> 
> Thank you very much to sarah for beta reading this chapter, and the final chapter >:), it means the world to me that you have been with me on this ride babe. 
> 
> Another special thank you to Ava who just... is my _best friend_ and I dont know where me or my stories would be without her. 
> 
> UHhh i dont think theres any trigger warnings for this chapter, but just in case, mild warning that this chapter deals with Harleys anxieties about his relationship with peter and peter getting s h o t from last chapter. 
> 
> Summary of last chapters events:
> 
> They almost kissed, woke up in each others arms, and oh yeah, Peter got shot 16 times and Harley found out that Peter was his soulmate and Spidey.

_ it's headed straight for my skin / leaving me daft and dim -ricky montgomery, Mr. Loverman _

  
  


Something was beeping loudly, and it made Peter’s head feel fuzzy. It was a rhythmic beeping though and he supposed that should be relaxing. It wasn’t. It really really wasn’t. The other thing was that it was really, really hard to breath. His superhealing was still clearly in full swing, but that didn’t mean anything really if he had gotten hurt enough. If his lungs weren’t the most vital organ damaged they wouldn’t be getting the full effect of his super healing until the other vital organs did. 

The room he was in smelled like medical supplies and marshmallows and roses. He knew he was in the medbay without opening his eyes, and if the smell was anything to go by Harley was with him. Of course Harley was with him. 

“Harls…” it hurt to speak a lot, but not as much as hearing did. He hadn’t noticed it before, but now that someone- probably Harley- was trying to talk to him, his entire ear was ringing, “Harley…”   
  
His voice sounded like cotton in his own head so he wondered how it must sound to Harley. What had happened? He was in the medbay with Harley. Was Harley hurt? Or was he just by Peter’s side, waiting for him to open his eyes? Why couldn’t he open his eyes? Maybe if he focused he could. 

He managed to get one eye open, but the lights were so bright they made him wanna throw up. Peter closed them again, mind picturing the panicked boy next to him, calling out instead, “Harley… Harley… ‘s okay.. Harley..”   
  
Someone responded, and suddenly there was a soft pressure on his forehead, and just like that it was gone. Someone was saying something but his own head was spinning. Harley was still there, he thought, and he had to tell Harley that he was okay.

“Harls..” He moaned, his voice filled with pain that it took from speaking, and he fought back a wince, “‘s okay.. ‘ve got you Harls… ‘lways got you..”

Someone was leaving the room and he couldn’t smell marshmallows or roses anymore. He fell back asleep seconds later. 

Peter woke up again a while later and blinked. He was feeling a lot less like a bus hit him and a lot more like he had been in the same position for a decade and he was sore from lack of movement. He sat up. Harley- where was Harley- 

Harley wasn’t in his room, just his dad, asleep on the chair next to him. A pang ran through his chest. He could have sworn… he had a distinct memory of Harley pressing his lips to his forehead and carding a hand through his hair. Had Peter gone crazy?    
  
Leaning over, he shook his dad lightly, “Dad. Dad, wake up.”   
  
“’S what?” hid dad blinked, then jolted right awake, “Peter- you’re awake- I thought you were Ha-”   
  
Tony cut himself off, and Peter blinked. His dad thought it was Harley waking him up. So… Harley had been here. Harley had been here.

“Harley,” he whispered, before clearing his throat, “Where- where’s Harley?”   


"He's- he wasn't here, kiddo,” His dad physically faltered, and alarm bells went through his head, “He’s not here.”

"But I thought-"

"He wasn't here,” Tony was sharper now, and he quickly steered the topic away from Harley, “Just like you weren't supposed to be on that mission."

"Dad- that's not fair-" 

"You know what's not fair? Watching my son get shot sixteen times."

His hands flew to his heart, and he was horrified to find that he was trembling, “I- sixteen times.”

“Sixteen times,” His dad’s voice was trembling as hard as he was, “You flat lined. Strange said that- that if your Rose hadn’t pulled you back from the brink of death, you would have passed.” 

“Rose- what are you talking about?”   
  
“Your soulmate did something unheard of,” Tony wasn’t looking at him, and Peter wanted to scream, “He pulled you back from the brink of death. He literally reached to where your souls met and pulled you away from death. If it wasn’t for H- him, if it wasn’t for him you would have died. You would have  _ died _ Peter.”   
  
His entire mind blanked. Dead. He would have been dead. He would have left Rose, and Harley, and his dad. He would have left everyone. He would have left his soulmate alone. Somehow, though, Rose had brought him back. His Rose, his perfect and wonderful Rose, had brought him back.

It made his head spin. 

“I don’t,” he licked his lips, because they were dry, “I don’t understand.”   
  
“No one does except strange- because strange can see where souls are connected if he looks.”   
  
“So Rose- he- he brought me back.”   
  
Tony pressed his hands to his face and it physically hurt Peter to see the distress in his dad's eyes, “I could have lost you. You weren’t supposed to be on that mission, Peter, and I almost lost you because you were. You- you can't do that again.”   
  
“I won’t,” The words were bitter because both of them knew it was a lie, “I won't.”   
  
“Don’t lie to me, kid.”   
  
“Okay.”   
  
“You’re too much like me,” His dad’s voice broke, “You’re too much like me and you’re too much like Ben. Why can't you just stay away from the fight, Peter?”   


Something in his chest felt heavier. His dad was acting like that was a bad thing- like that was his death sentence. Maybe it was. But he couldn’t stay away from a fight. When you have the power to do something, and you don’t, the bad things happen because of you. That was something he had lived by these past few years. If you can stop something bad, you do it. 

Peter reached forward, taking his dad's hand and squeezing it, “I’m like both of you because you both taught me to care, dad. You taught me how to be a hero. Maybe I can’t stay away from the fight- but I can’t stay away from it because we both know that the world needs people in it that will stand up for others. You show me that every day. That’s why I can’t back down from a fight. I can’t back down because you don’t back down either.”   
  
“No,” His dad’s voice broke again, “No, Peter- you have to learn to be better than me. You have too. You need to Peter, because I can’t lose you. I can’t. Okay? You need to understand-”   
  
“-dad-”   
  
“-Peter, the worst thing that can happen in a parents life is having to bury their baby,” Peter wanted to cry, because his dad was crying too, “I can’t lose you. I can’t do that. I can't survive in a world you’re not in, kid. You’re my son. So- so don’t do that again. Don’t do that ever again. Please? If you see they’re packing a type of gun you can’t dodge you run the other way, Peter- please.”   
  
That pressure in his chest got even heavier, “If I run the other way will you? If I run the other way will you?”   
  
Silence fell between them. They both knew the answer. They both knew that the two of them were never going to run the other way, not if it meant someone else got hurt in their place. Maybe they were too alike. Maybe they were too much of the same. Maybe they were both heroes to their core, bloody knuckles, and stained bandages. 

Tony couldn’t run away from the ledger he made before becoming Iron Man and because of that he would never ever run away from anyone in trouble. It just wasn't in him anymore. That need to help people was all that he was some days. 

Peter couldn’t run away from someone else he could save and because of that he would always stand his ground and let himself get destroyed if it meant someone else was saved. That was who he was down to his core. Someone who would take any fist if it meant that he could save someone else. 

Quietly, his dad spoke again, “Just… lie to me. Tell me you won’t go into fights like that again. Tell me you’ll run away from a gun if you can’t dodge the bullet. Lie to me, kid.”   
  
“Okay,” He whispered guiltily, “I won’t go into a fight like that again. I’ll run away from guns I can’t dodge. You’ll do the same, right?”   
  
“Yeah, kid. I’ll do the same.”   
  
There was something very comforting in the lie. Just as comforting as the fact that Peter’s heart was still beating, and his lungs were still filling with air and he was still alive. They could handle living in a lie, if it meant that he was alive.

  
  


_ but who put these waves in the door / i crack and out i pour -ricky montgomery, Mr. Loverman _

  
  


“Hey,” Harry caught his elbow gently, holding him back from where the other members of the aca deca club were walking out, debating on pizza or hamburgers for an after practice meal, “Can we talk?”   
  
Harley glanced towards their retreating friends, “Yeah. Yeah, sure.”   
  
Harry let go of his elbow, instead motioning for Harley to follow him back into the empty classroom they had stolen for practice while the gym was being used by the basketball team. Following, Harley shook away memories of Rose Hill- because this was Harry who was his friend that he cared about a lot. 

Hoping on a desk, the other boy spoke, “We need to talk.”   
  
“Oh?” He mirrored Harry, choosing a desk and sitting on it, “Are we okay…?”   
  
“We are. But you’re avoiding Flash, dude. And Peter. And Shuri. And all of us really.”

Immediately, Harley avoided Harry’s eyes. It wasn’t that he was avoiding his friends. He was still.. He was still talking to them. They lived together, for peats sake! But maybe he wasn’t eating lunch with them, and maybe he stayed back to ask questions to the teachers after class, and maybe he skipped dinner by saying he was working in the lab, and maybe every time that Peter came into the lab he found an excuse to leave. He wasn’t avoiding them… he was just… 

“I’m just kinda busy,” He rubbed the back of his neck, chewing at his bottom lip, “And I’m not avoiding anyone. I’m just busy.”  
  
Harry gave him a look, “Okay, ‘just busy’, then you’ll be fine getting unbusy. After all, I know you’re not purposely upsetting my soulmate because you’re avoiding him- and the rest of us- for reasons he won’t even tell me.”  
  
“Harry-”  
  
“Just tell us what’s wrong, man.”  
  
“I’m not avoiding anyone.”  
  
“The only one who hasn’t caught on to the fact that you’re avoiding us is Peter,” Harley fought back a wince at Harry’s mention of his soulmate, “And when he does finally figure out that you’re not struggling with school and you’re just avoiding us, he’ll stage an intervention. So what would you rather have Harley- a conversation with me, or an intervention with Peter.”  
  
That bastard played dirty, Harley thought, evaluating his options. He wasn’t wrong though- Peter would realize and stage an intervention and maybe cry and Harley couldn’t handle that. But he also couldn’t handle seeing Peter 24/7 and not have the other boy know that he was Peter’s Rose. And he couldn’t just… tell Harry that he was Peter’s soulmate. That wasn’t something he wanted to do. He just wanted to process this on his own, where he had no eyes on him, where he could just think and be himself. 

Fuck. He was screwed. 

“A conversation with you,” Harley admitted, shifting, still avoiding Harry’s eyes.

“Okay,” Harry cleared his throat, “Look at me.”    
  
Harley did. Harry continued, “You’ve been avoiding Flash and it's really upsetting him. He wont tell me what happened between you two. What happened?”   
  
“I-” What was he supposed to say? What could he say? He swallowed, chewing harder at his bottom lip, “Something happened to my soulmate. He uh- he got really really hurt, and Flash was there when it happened. I can't really say more than that, I guess.”    
  
“Yes you can. Tell me what happened to your soulmate.”   
  
“Harry-”   
  
“Talk to me, Harley.”   
  
There was something in the firmness of his friend's voice that made him wanna squirm, “My soulmate got shot. A few times. And… and it was just a lot. It was so much at that moment. I had a kind of breakdown, and I almost lost him. I didn’t- he’s alive. But it just… it was a lot.”    
  
“Oh,” Harry’s eyes were wide now, his lips pursed, “Shit.”   
  
“Yeah. Shit.”   
  
“Your soulmate…” his friend's voice was a slow draw, calculating and concerned, “Your soulmate’s Spider-Man.”    
  
No one in their friend group knew that Peter was Spider-Man. No one except him and Peter, and even then, he wasn’t supposed to know. He was never supposed to discover that Peter was Spider-Man. If it hadn’t been for the simple fact that he was Spider-Man’s soulmate- peter’s soulmate- then he wouldn’t know. 

But that’s why this was so tricky. One day- maybe in a month, maybe years from now- he’d tell his friends that he and Peter were soulmates. And what would Peter do then? Would he be mad at Harley for the secret he tried so hard to protect getting out? No. Because that wasn’t who Peter was. But it still was important to him that it was kept secret. 

“You know I can’t answer that,” He said slowly, instead of confirming, “Just… ever since then I don’t know too much about talking, I guess.”    
  
Harry considered his words, before speaking even slower than he had before, “But why take that out on Flash?”   
  
“Because I don’t know how to explain to him what happened.”    
  
“What did happen?”   
  
“I almost lost him.”   
  
“Okay,” His friend nodded, like Harley had just said the most logical sentence in the entire world, even though Harley was pretty sure he was just repeating things he had already said, “Can I tell you a story?”   
  
“Sure?”   
  
Once again, Harry seemed to consider his words carefully, “How much has Flash told you about the time before we got together romantically?”   
  
“Not a lot,” The turn in conversation seemed to come out of left field unprompted, “He doesn’t really like talking about it. I know you dated people, and he alluded that he did too. I know that his dad was… part of his life at that time,” He spoke gentler for a moment, “I know that your dad was a part of yours too.”   
  
“Well, that's kinda just half the story,” Harry admitted, voice getting quieter, “I was in France for two years. I came back a year ago, and when I did, me and Flash took the plunge.”    
  
That was new. He had never ever heard the other boy mention France, ever, “Uh… why were you in France?”   
  
“Because my father is a dick who didn’t want me to be happy,” There was a bitter edge to his voice, “But… France was bad. France was really bad Harls. Like… France is to me, what that day in Rose Hill was to you.”    
  
“Oh,” He inhaled sharply, reaching out for the other boy, giving his arm a gentle squeeze, “We don’t have to talk about it.”   
  
“And we’re not going to talk about it,” Harry said firmly, putting the boundary down now, “We’re not going to talk about what happened to me in France. We’re going to talk about how me being in France did something to me and Eugene’s relationship.”   
  
“Oh.”   
  
“Yeah,” The other boy shrugged off his hand gently and continued on, “You know, there are more ways than one to lose someone. You had it indefinitely worse than me and Genie. Your soulmate physically almost passed, and that's- that's terrifying, Harley. I’m terrified for you. The worst part of that entire situation is it might happen again, and again, because he’s a hero.”   
  
“Please- don’t talk like that-”   
  
“Sorry. But my point still stands.”   
  
“I don’t understand your point.”   
  
Harry breathed in, “The point is losing someone can be terrifying. When I was in France… When I was in France Eugene didn’t talk to me for the first year. That’s probably what made everything about that place, worse. And it wasn’t that I wasn’t reaching out to him- yeah, I was mad he was bullying Peter, and I certainly chewed him out for it- but it was that Eugene just point blank cut all contact with me. For a year, I lost such an important part of myself. I lost the one true love of my life, and that was… that was horrible. I don’t think I ever want to feel like that again. But do you know what I did?” 

“What?”   
  
“Exactly what you’re doing,” Harry’s words cut Harley like a knife through butter, “I pushed away everyone else. I pushed away Peter because he was the person that knew Flash as well as I did and he couldn’t get my soulmate to talk to me. I pushed away Ned, and Mj, and Betty. I let myself fall into some terrible terrible things all because I lost one faucet of myself. And it ruined my life.”

It’s not the same, a part of him was aching to scream, it wasn’t the same. Losing your soulmate to death, pulling him back from the edge, faced with the information that the boy you’ve become best friends with is also the boy you love, is not the same as your soulmate not talking to you for a year. He didn’t know Harry’s story- but he didn’t have to know to realize that this was not the same situation and equating the two was going to hurt him more than help him. 

Harley had  _ witnessed  _ his soulmate get shot sixteen times. 

He had seen Peter’s body fall, limp and unmoving to the pavement, chaos erupting around him. He had to watch as the boy he loves body was scooped up into Tony’s arms and flown to a hospital because he was mere moments away from dying. He had sprinted as hard as he possibly could to get to his side, to clutch at the boy he loved, only to be stopped because he was getting operated on. Harley had to stand there, sobbing in Tony’s arms, with the crushing realization that Peter and Solo and Spider-Man were all the same thing. And then, he had to reach for where their souls were connected and force him back to life from the verge of death. 

It wasn’t the same. 

He hadn’t just lost his lover for a year. He had lost everything in a matter of minutes and it had destroyed him. He couldn’t just pretend like these were the same situations. He wasn’t pushing everyone away because he couldn’t face them knowing that his soulmate was out there alone. He was trying to hold himself together from latching onto Peter and never ever letting go. 

He wasn’t avoiding his friends just to avoid them. He knew that if he let them back in, every small little thing would pour out of him. He’d spill his guts to all of them and he couldn’t do that yet. He wasn’t ready for Peter to know yet. He wasn’t. And that sucked because he needed Peter right there with him to remind him that he was alive. That his soulmate was still there. Writing to Peter didn’t cut it- he wanted to hold his soulmate but he couldn’t. He couldn’t. 

This was not the same thing. 

Harley swallowed all of that down, “I can’t-”   
  
“I know it's different,” Harry assured gently, “This is so so much worse than what I went through. I know that. But I am telling you now, you don’t have to push us away. We want to be there for you Harley. We do.”   
  
“I just,” His eyes stung, and he shut them to keep the tears from spilling, “I’ll work on it. I didn’t mean to shut flash or anyone out. It's just… it’s a lot to deal with and cope with and- and I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to know.”   
  
“Yes I do.”   
  
“No, you don’t,” Harry jumped off the desk he was perched in and pulled Harley in a tight hug, “You don’t have to know. We’ve got you.”

Harley sank into the hug, melting like butter in his friends arms, “Promise?”   
  
“Of course. Even when you push us away, we care about you, Harley. You matter to us. We’ll always be there for you.”   
  
“I’ll work on talking to everyone again,” He pressed his face to Harry’s shoulder, and wrapped his arms around him, “Especially Flash.”   
  
“You better,” Harry said softly, pulling away, and Harley took that as the cue to get off the desk, “I think he loves you more than he loves me.”   
  
“Of course he does- I’m his best friend.”   
  
“Sure, I’m just the guy that feeds him and loves him and takes care of him and make sure he bathes and soothes him and-”   
  
“You make him sound like he’s a cat!”

“Oh he practically is.”   
  
“That makes you a furry!”    
  
Their banter continued down the hallway, and Harley felt like he could breathe a little easier. 

  
  


_ the ways that you say my name / have me runnin' on and on -ricky montgomery, Mr. Loverman _

  
  


There was something exhilarating about being Spider-Man again. His dad hadn’t wanted him to go out for awhile, but now that all of the doctors medical and magical said he was okay, he had no excuse to keep Peter locked up again. Tonight was a good night for fighting crime. 

A lot of people were just relieved to see him back on the streets. He got stopped a lot this particular night, not even for any crimes, just for people to say that they had missed him. A small kid had given him some candy, and a hug, and every person he passed by while swinging, pointed and waved at him. It was nice to be appreciated- it was even nicer that that appreciation seemed to stream in from beyond civilians. At least ten criminals he stopped tonight had stopped what they were doing without a fight and shook his hand, congratulating him for being alive. Then he’d webbed them up and brought them to the police station for you know. Their crimes. 

He was kind of glad to finally be heading home though- he was really tired. He may have been healed, but it was still taking three times his normal energy to swing around and be a hero. His body just wanted time to adjust after a few weeks off with absolutely no physical activity. 

Peter's breath fell short when he finally caught glimpse of the tower roof. Harley was standing there, head bowed on the edge of the roof. His swings became tighter, moving after and faster, desperate to get there, “Harley!”    
  
His friends head whipped up, eyes meeting his form, “Spidey-”   
  
“What were you-”   
  
“Take off your suit.”   
  
“Harley-”   
  
“Take. Off. Your. Suit.”   
  
“Where you going to-”   
  
“No, now  _ please  _ take off your suit-”   
  
“What-” 

Harley’s eyes were rimmed with tears, glassy and red, “Take off your suit. Leave on the mask, I don’t care, but I- I need to see for myself that you’re okay.”   
  
“I- Harley,” Peter was blushing under the mask, “I can’t just take off my suit-”   
  
“ _ Please.”  _

The desperateness in his friend's voice shattered his heart. It was a bad idea. He was fairly certain that Harley had seen him shirtless before, and if he put the two things together… but he couldn’t leave it like this. He couldn’t let Harley break down in front of him and not help him breath. 

Slowly, he tapped the Spider on his chest, then he tapped again. The suit retracted into the spider, but his mask stayed faceted on. Harley’s eyes were closed for a split second, but when he opened them, tears seemingly overflow. 

Peter knew he didn’t have any scars anymore, but something in Harley’s eyes told him Harley didn’t have to see scars to know where he’d been shot. His friend reached forward, hand finding the curve of his rib, tracing where a bullet had entered him two weeks ago. Fighting back a shudder at the feeling of Harley’s hands on his skin, he stayed quiet. 

Harley seemed to appreciate this, mapping out where the bullets had entered Peter’s body, like he was remembering something absolutely terrible. Peter just watched him. Watched his face as Harley’s hands skirted over his left peck, tracing the barley there scar from the incident. Watched those eyes blink tears out of them as his hands pressed closer. It struck Peter like a baseball bat that Harley was making sure he was alive. 

The other boy was counting every breath that Peter made and matching them. His right hand stayed over his heart, feeling it pound, as his left wandered over Peter's chest to each place a bullet had teared into his chest. How many times had Harley played back the recording of him being hurt to memorize that? Had Harley just been torturing himself this entire time, rewatching and rewatching his hero and friend get shot?

Peter reached out, placing his hand over where Harley’s was on his heart. Haley looked up at him, eyes still flowing with tears, and the other boy just shook his head and pressed closer, hands mapping out the details of his chest, memorizing the feelings of it. His fingers dipped into the crook of Peter’s ribs, feeling where a bullet might have struck, and Peter held back a shutter at the touch.

His friend inched forward slightly, pressing his face to Peter’s shoulder and collapsing there, sobs sniffled, “I though- I thought-”   
  
“I know,” Peter whispered, his voice coming out a lot stronger than he actually felt, “I know what you thought.”   
  
“You went down,” The hand not pressed to his heart skirted across his sides and came to clutch at his back, nails digging in just slightly, like he needed the feeling of Peter there, “You went down and I had to watch, Spidey. I had to watch as you fell to the ground, lifeless. I had to witness that. And I-”    


Harley shook his head, whatever he was about to say, gone from his lips. Peter held his breath for a moment, waiting for whatever Harley was going to say. When he didn’t- when they stood there in silence, he realized that Harley needed this. He needed the realization that Spider-Man was alive. 

Peter had never joined in on the teasing of Harley Keener about his love for the super hero, but it felt really clear now. Harley loved him like this. He adored Spider-Man. Something about seeing Spider-Man get shot must have broke him in one way or another. The knowledge of that kind of broke Peter. If Harley had known it was him under the mask… how much worse would the reaction be? Would Harley have memorized where the bullet wounds were? Or would have Harley shown up in the hospital- like he had thought Harley did- and held him and cried? What would’ve happened if Harley had known that this happened?

His friend's lips brushed his shoulder, and Peter became aware that Harley was praying. 

Here, on the roof, the moonlight illuminating them, Harley was praying. Peter couldn’t tell what he was praying for, but he could guess. He could guess that Harley was praying for this never to happen again. Never to witness Peter get shot that many times again. Never see him suffer at another's hands like that again. Never watch his hero fall. 

It hurt all the more when he realized that one day Harley would have to see it all again. This was the nature of being a hero; you got hurt. The people you love have to witness you time and time again getting hurt and almost dying. 

“...Lord in heaven,” Harley’s voice was small and trembling, and Peter didn’t even know if he knew he was speaking, “Protect those I love; like you have protected many from pain or suffering-”    
  
Peter’s eyes felt like they were stinging and his breath caught in his throat. What had he  _ done?  _ He’d hurt his friend so badly by getting shot, he’d shattered Harley Keener. He couldn’t let this happen again. 

“-Make us an instrument of your peace,” it was even tinier now, a barely their whisper, sobs interrupting softly at points, “where there is hatred, let us sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is discord, union; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light. Protect those who protect us, for they are the ones at the mercy of your will. Please, if nothing else, protect- protect him.”    
  
Harley’s voice broke towards the last lines of his prayer, and Peter broke with him. When Harley’s voice disappeared again, in favor of continuing the prayer with his lips against Peter’s skin, Peter scooped him up, pulling him down with him, and holding his friend tight in his lap. 

He couldn’t let this happen again. Something in his soul was tearing himself apart for hurting Harley like this. This could  _ never  _ happen again. If this happened again he didn’t know how Harley would survive. If Harley could survive seeing that again. This was his friend- the one he had witnessed grow from a boy afraid of who he was, to the person who would stand tall and proud. This was his Harley, who had been through so so so much. This was his Harley who may not be able to process losing someone for good. 

And what would happen if Peter were to die in the line of duty? Would Harley break down even further because now it wasn’t only his hero, it was his friend that was gone too? God- Peter couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t let Harley be destroyed because he was dead. This could never happen again. 

“Thank you,” He whispered, pressing his face into Harley’s hair and hoping he couldn’t feel the hot tears through the mask, “Thank you.” 

Harley shook his head, voice weak and small, “Don’t thank me. Please don't thank me. I couldn’t- Spidey-”   
  
“You’re the reason I fight,” pulling away from his friend, he cupped Harley’s cheek gently, looking into his eyes, “You are one of the reasons I want to protect. I wouldn’t still be doing this if it wasn’t for you, Harley Keener. You’re- this is important to me. Moments like this. Moments where I get to sit here, and hold you, and remember why I do what I do. Why I jump into fights like that. Why I fight at all. I do it for you.”    
  
“Spider-Man-”   
  
“No, Harley,” He pressed his forehead to Harley’s, voice trembling hard, no matter how strong it came out, “You need to know this. Everything I do- I do it so that I can make you proud. So that I can go home every day, and know that you’re okay. You… you’re my best friend. You’re important to me. So I will always thank you, for inspiring me to go on and to continue doing what I need to too protect this city. Everyone thinks I’m good and a hero- but I’m doing this for selfish reasons. I can’t stay out of a fight while knowing I can help, and I can’t stop being a hero when it means people I love- People I care about-  _ you-  _ will be unprotected.”   
  
A hand came to cup the back of his neck, pressing the two of them close, and his friend let out a half laugh, half sob, “You’ll always protect me. But you don’t- you don’t have to do it like that. You don’t- I can’t- please.”   
  
“I’ll be better,” He murmured, eyes studying him behind the mask, “I’ll be better, if it means that every night I can come back to you.”   
  
“Promise me.”    
  
He couldn’t. He couldn’t promise Harley. And this wasn’t like his dad- it was different. He didn't know how but it was. He couldn’t promise that to Harley, and he couldn’t lie either. So he compromised, “I promise to be safer. I promise to work harder. I promise that every chance I get I will come to you. I promise that you’re going to have me by your side for as long as you can. I promise that I’ll try.”   
  
“But not that you’ll get back to me every night.”   
  
“I can’t promise that.”   
  
“You’ve promised enough,” Harley’s eyes were closed, and the shadows his lashes cast against his freckles made something hot rise in Peter’s throat, “You’ve promised more than enough. Maybe it's time for me to promise something too.”   
  
“Harley-”   
  
“I swear to you, Spidey,” Those bright blues were suddenly on him, staring past the mask, maybe past him entirely, “That every time you get hurt, I will be here waiting for you to get better. I will never ever lose faith in you. I will never think you’re gone, because I know you’ll get back to me. Okay?”   
  
“Okay.”

Harley leaned forward, lips brushing the fabric of the mask, and Peter’s forehead burned where it made contact, “Now go. Suit up and be who you are, Spidey. A hero.”

  
  


_ oh and I miss my lover -ricky montgomery, Mr. Loverman _

  
  


Peter Parker-Stark was his soulmate. 

He’d been thinking about how Peter was his soulmate for a few days now. It had been the only thing in his head. Constantly running through it, every time he wrote to Solo or smiled at Flash or solved a problem in class. He couldn’t find the strength in him to reach out to Peter and tell him but Jesus- he loved that boy. He loved his soulmate. Even though in this moment he was trying not to draw attention to that fact, he was still enamored with it. Peter Parker-Stark was his soulmate. He had a soulmate. And it was Peter Parker-Stark.

His soulmate was this boy- this wonderful perfect boy. This boy who had been his best friend for the past few months, and the boy he loved for the past few years. This boy who was a hero, and did everything he could to save people; who would gladly throw himself in danger if it meant saving anyone else. This boy who made Harley laugh, made him feel like he was flying through the air. This boy who knew every small detail about him, who saved him from every bad thought, who talked him down on bad days. This boy who was everything. 

This boy who Harley was  _ avoiding.  _

It just kinda… it was weird to face his soulmate day in and day out and not have him know that he was there. That Harley was his love. That Harley was his Rose. But the issue was… he wasn’t sure if he wanted Peter to know. Peter knowing could be… it could change things. 

And if there was one thing that Harley was afraid of it was change. 

He had thought he’d gotten better at it- accepting that things change and that people grow and move and function- but he wasn’t good enough at accepting change to deal with this. Peter would never hate him, because he was pretty sure Peter couldn’t hate at all, but Peter could be something worse than hateful. He could be  _ disappointed  _ that his soulmate was someone like Harley. 

Harley with his anxiety disorder. Harley with his emotional issues. Harley with his avoiding people and problems and things. Harley who had pushed him away the first week of knowing him. Harley who was nothing like the beauty that Peter always described when he described his soulmate. Harley who was bad. Harley who wasn’t a hero. Harley who had barely survived this or that. Harley who wasn’t good enough. 

Peter could take one look at him and deem him not enough. He could look at him and change his mind entirely; he didn’t want a romantic bond now that he knew it was Harley, when all Harley wanted now was a romantic bond with him. Peter could realize his soulmate was Harley and be absolutely disgusted. 

After all, who would want him?    
  
His mind flashed with the day he and Peter had almost kissed. That was a long time ago, in his eyes. That was pre the revelation that Peter was his soulmate. That was.. Completely different. Peter hadn’t meant any of those things, he was just humoring Harley and Harley had taken that as a cue to lean in and almost initiate a kiss. Thank god he didn’t- Peter might have been disappointed he lost his first kiss to a soulmate he’d want as platonic. 

There was no way that Peter would actually want him now. No way that Peter could hear that Harley was his soulmate and still want rose. 

Or maybe he would want him. 

Maybe Peter would love that Harley was his Rose. Maybe Peter would scoop him up in his arms, kiss him, and profess how in love he was- Harley would kiss him back, and tell him how he had loved Peter forever too. Maybe Peter would kiss all of his freckles and maybe Peter would let Harley kiss his smile and maybe they’d be happy. 

Peter and him would curl up every night, in each others arms, just content to be there. Peter would let Harley curl into his chest and he’d read him their biochem textbook. They’d study together, stealing kisses in between worksheets, giggling to themselves when those small kisses turned into make out sessions. Harley would cheer him on in acadec, and the newspaper would bully Peter for taking so many pictures of his boyfriend. Peter would kiss his fingertips in the hallways between classes, and Harley could fight back the urge to drag him to the janitors closet. 

They’d come home from the school and they’d work in the lab together, quiet and in sync. Peter would come up behind him and kiss the back of his neck, and Harley would laugh, and accidentally elbow him on instinct- but Peter wouldn’t be hurt, and he’d whine and complain until Harley agreed to kiss him again. Harley would surprise him mid lab session with cookies and cupcakes and all the sweets that Peter enjoyed snacking on whenever he could, and Peter would kiss frosting from His upper lip. Slowly, they’d get back to work, only to have one of them get bored, and ask if the other wanted to just hang and play video games. They’d try to destroy each other in Call of Duty or Mario Kart or Just Dance, and when one of them lost the other would kiss them in sympathy. 

At night, they’d pretend to fall asleep in their own rooms, but Harley would leave his window unlocked for Peter to come in after a long night as Spidey so they could cuddle. Some nights, if Peter was out longer than usual, Harley would go and meet him on the roof. Except this time things were going to be different, because they’d know. Peter would pull up the mask and kiss him breathless, and maybe they’d dance in the moonlight, or maybe they’d just enjoy each other’s company. Harley would be there, helping him clean up whatever scrapes or bruises he got that night, and Peter would be so so grateful. He’d mention the stupid Iron Lad armor design, and Peter would be happy at the idea of having his partner out there on the field, having his back. 

Every night, they’d fall asleep in each other's arms because that's all they wanted. Each other's arms. Each other. 

Peter would be enthralled with how Harley liked to play with his hair. Harley would fall in love with how Peter liked to trace his hands over his freckles. They’d find each other in person, just like they’d found each other through the words on their skin. They’d talk every day in class, still, when the lessons got boring and they missed talking to each other. They’d hold hands every single moment they could, just needing to touch each other. They would love each other. 

He’d have his Peter Parker-Stark and they’d love each other. 

But then again, why would Peter react positively to him being his soulmate?    
  
His mind was flipping back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and it made his head hurt. Sitting up, he tapped out his wrist, wanting to write to his soulmate, but he couldn’t think of any words there. He just… didn’t know what to tell Sol- Peter, right now, beyond the simple knowledge that he wanted to hold his Soulmate. 

Slowly, he got out of his bed, “Hey, Fri, where’s Peter?”

“Your soulmate,” He forced himself not to wince at the bluntness and disapproval in her voice- she was only upset because he still hadn’t told Peter, “Is in the living room. He fell asleep on the couch.”   
  
“Oh,” Harley whispered, and he hesitated at his door.   
  
“Are you going to him, Harley?”   
  
“I’m… yeah. Yeah I am.”   
  
Friday didn’t respond to that, but she didn’t need to. Opening his door felt like accepting a quest from an oracle. He slipped out of his room, and trailed his fingers over the frame. A part of it was chipped from where Flash and Peter had been rough housing and one of them bashed a lego figure, chipping the frame. Why did this have so much memory behind it? When did he give it so much power over him?

His hand never left the wall as he made his way down the hall. Photos had been hung up now, seemingly by an invisible force. Peter had taken each one, so he was in none, but Harley was in almost every one of them. He fought back a smile at the fact without even knowing it Peter had been photographing his soulmate. Mainly with the other members of the group, sure, but Harley was still enamored with that fact. 

The wall had scratches and dents here and there too. A robotic panther Shuri had made scratching at the side of the wall. A few lego figures hastily dropped by Peter, chasing someone down the hall, figures that no one bothered to pick up. A dent where Flash has tackled Riri like a football player for almost leaking to Harry the texts he sent her about his thoughts on Harry’s new gucci suit. How many memories were here that meant something to him?    
  
He liked it. He liked having this place- having this home. He liked having Peter and Flash and Riri and Harry and Shuri. He liked having his friends so close to him. He liked having his soulmate near him. He liked this. He liked all of the ways this group had tied him to this place. 

Turning the corner, his breath hitched. 

Peter always was a restless sleeper, and tonight was clearly no different. But tonight was the first time that Harley had seen him asleep since finding out that Peter was more than his friend. That Peter was his soulmate. His Solo. The love of his life. And somehow, that knowledge made something heave in his chest. 

His soulmate was glowing. Not literally- but the soft lights coming from the TV were illuminating him. He was beautiful. Peter was beautiful. His soulmate was absolutely beautiful and it made Harley’s heart pound with want and need and longing. He wanted to hold Peter. He needed to hold Peter. He longed to have his soulmate right where his soulmate should be- his arms. That was all he really wanted. All he ever really needed. 

Slipping into the room, he tried not to disturb the boy, gently moving him so that Peter’s head was in his lap. He studied the other boy's face, and hesitantly dropped a small kiss to his forehead. 

Peter’s nose scrunched, “Harls?”   
  
“Yeah,” He whispered, running a hand through his hair, “It's me, Peter.”

“You smell nice,” The other boy reached up blindly, patting his cheek, “Marshmallows and roses and nice things. I like it.”   
  
“You’re asleep Peter.”   
  
“No, ‘m not, because if I was asleep I wouldn’t be talking to you,” Peter cracked open his eyes, and offered a very dorky grin, voice thick with sleep, “And here I am, talking to you Harls.”   
  
His fingers skirted over Peter’s brow, brushing the curls from the forehead, “Yeah.. you’re talking to me.”   
  
“C’mere,” Peter made grabby hands, “Lets cuddle.”   
  
“Okay.”    
  
He let Peter shift him, molding them into a place that Peter was comfortable with. Harley had already let Peter mold him into a better, happier person, so he was fine with Peter shifting his limbs and arms changing him to be in a place Peter was comfortable with. By the end of it, Peter was laying on his chest, feet falling off the end of the couch, and Harley's face was pressed to the other boy's hair. 

Neither one of them broke the silence at first, but Harley wasn’t too good with silences, “This would be more comfortable in a bed.”   
  
“Mhmm…” Peter’s breath licked his neck, and Harley fought back a shiver, “But this is so nice and comfy.”    
  
“You’re just happy to have your favorite pillow back.”   
  
“I am,” Peter admitted, hands slipping from around Harley to up Harley’s shirt, tracing patterns, “I was nervous you were avoiding me. But I don’t think you were. Think you were just taking your time. You’d come to me when you were ready. And I was right because you're here right now.”

Harley flushed, pressing closer to Peter, “I’m sorry I left in the first place.” 

“You didn’t leave- you never leave.”   
  
“Peter, I-” He swallowed, every instinct in him wanting to beg for Peter’s forgiveness and tell him why he’d been avoiding him at all, “What would you do if your soulmate knew who you were but didn’t tell you?”   
  
The question seemed to startle Peter and he looked up at Harley with warm brown eyes, “Depends.”   
  
“On?”   
  
“If he was ready for me to know or not,” His hands were still tracing patterns on his side, and every place they touched tingled, “My soulmate- he’s had a shitty lot. He’s not really ready for us to meet. He said that he wants to in a few months, but I’d be willing to wait forever if it meant a second with him. If he knew me, and wasn’t ready to tell me, I’d be okay with that.”

“You- you say that now.”   
  
“No,” Peter shook his head softly, “No, I say that because I know that. My Rose, Harley, he deserves the world. He deserves everything but most of all he deserves my respect. I wouldn’t disrespect or hurt him by demanding he tell me everything. I know him better than that. He needs space and time and the ability to want to meet me on his own. And that's  _ all  _ I want too. Is for him to wake up one morning and be ready for me to know him, to know each other.”

Harley’s throat burned, and his emotions came spilling out of him like an overflowing sink, “I’m really scared Peter- because I- I know who my soulmate is.”   
  
“But that’s,” Peter faltered really hard, “That's great.”   
  
“He doesn’t know who I am.”   
  
“Oh.”   
  
“And it's- it's terrifying,” He closed his eyes to stop Peter from seeing the emotions there, “I’m terrified. He- he’s so so good, Peter. He’s so good and kind and wonderful. He makes me happy, and every time he laughs my stomach fills with butterflies and I adore him. He makes me want to be  _ better.  _ But- but here’s the thing; what if he doesn't want me?”   
  
Peter’s eyes went wide, and Harley powered through, “What if he takes one look at me and says that I’m not the boy he fell in love with because I’m- I’m  _ me.  _ Who would want me over the person I am too my soulmate? Who would want me at all?”

“I would,” Peter’s voice was loud in his ears, his breath snaking against his skin, making Harley ache with love, “I’ve already told you before. You’re beautiful and wonderful. You’re one of my favorite people in the world. Your soulmate- he’s an idiot if he doesn't see you and loves you more than anything in the world.”   
  
“Peter,” His breath felt like it was escaping from his lungs, but this time, the feeling didn’t feel him with fear or terror, “Peter.”   
  
“You’re wonderful, Harley Keener,” he was whispering now, his lips close to Harley’s ear, brushing against the skin right where his jaw met his neck, “And I’m so sorry that the world treated you so terribly all of your life. But you have me now. You have me now, and I won’t let you get hurt by anyone else. I won’t let anyone else hurt you. If your soulmate- is he doesn't see how you’re light and beautiful and good, then he doesn’t deserve you. Then he doesn't deserve to have you as his soulmate. Do you understand?”   
  
This moment felt important. 

This moment felt so so important. This moment felt like an answer, or a prayer, or a spell. It blanketed Harley, and he thought to himself, I have him now. Peter wanted him. Or at least- at least cared for him as  _ Harley  _ not just Rose. 

“I understand,” His breath was trembling, and one of his hands found the back of Peter’s neck, pressing into the skin there, “But I- I’m still scared.”    
  
“I will protect you.”   
  
“I know.”   
  
“You’re too good for anyone in this world,” Peter’s voice was still laced with exhaustion, but he spoke anyway, lips and teeth dragging near his neck, “You know that right? That you’re good. That you’ve always been good. You’re one of those people that just have goodness about them. The world has hurt you so so many times, Harls, but you just take everything in stride. You find your own footing. You create your own kindness. You glow. You’re so so beautiful, Harley. You’re beautiful, kind, good. You’re so many things. And if your soulmate turns out to be a shitstain that doesn't want you, you don’t have to worry about anything. I’ll make sure everyone in the world knows just how much you mean to me.”

Tears stung at his eyes, “Thank you- you don’t- thank you. But he’s- he’s not a shitstain. I’m just. I’m worried that when he finds out that it's me all the opinions he has about me will change. That he’ll find out that  _ I’m  _ his soulmate and be disappointed. Be disgusted. Be horrified because I’m  _ me-” _

“Don’t talk down to yourself,” his voice was gruffer now, straining with anger, and his teeth accidentally nipped at his neck, “You are one of the best people on this earth. You are wonderful, and beautiful, and any boy worth his salt will see that. Do you understand?”

“I-”   
  
“You have to understand,” From gruff to pleading, Peter shifted through emotions fast, “If you don’t understand how good you are, how much you mean to me, that means I’ve failed to show you how much you make me feel. I can’t fail to show you that. You’re my world, Harley, I can’t fail you. I can’t. Tell me you understand that I care about you.”   
  
“No, hey,” Harley shifted, pulling back to cup Peter’s face, “I know you care about me. I know that you care about me Peter. On days where I don’t know that anyone at all could love me, I know you do. Never doubt that you have shown me how much you care- Peter, I’m a better person  _ because  _ you care. You cared about me so much that I started to care about me too.”   
  
“Oh.”   
  
“Yeah, Oh, dingus,” He pressed his lips to Peter’s forehead again, “I don’t need to know that anyone else in the world but you will care about me. You- god, Peter, I don’t even know what to say. You have to know that I know how much you love me because I love you just as much. You’re- you’re my world, Peter Parker-Stark. You make me better.”   
  
“I make you better,” Peter murmured gently, pressing his face back to Harley’s neck, “I make you better.”   
  
“Yeah, baby. You do.”   
  
“You make me better, too,” his soulmate admitted slowly, “There are these moments in days where I think everything becomes too much. The world gets too loud and busy, and I get so so tired. I get so overwhelmed. But I look at you, and I hold your hand, and everything calms down. You take an eleven to a two. You just… you make me better through just being there. Just holding me. And- and night time is always so much better when we’re together. That month we slept in your bed every night was the best month of my life. It just… you help me. You help me breathe, Harley.”   
  
“I will always help you breathe,” he took his own breath, breathing Peter in fully, “I will do anything to bring an eleven down to as low as it can be. I love- you’re- You’re my peter. You- I may take your elevens down to twos but you make my gray walls blue and red and pink and yellow and so many good colors. You brighten up my life more than anyone I’ve ever known. You make me happy. You just- you bring out all the good you see in me.”   
  
“Oh,” Peter whispered, “Oh.”   
  
“I care about you.”   
  
“I care about you too.”

Silence fell upon them again, thick and swampy. This wasn’t the silence like before, silence that Harley had felt the urge to break. No, this silence was like a weighted blanket. It was warm, and comforting, and nice. Maybe it was how Peter was pressed to his chest, and Harley was in his arms. Maybe it was that Peter’s breathing was soft but just loud enough for Harley to be able to count. Whatever it was, the silence between them felt like a familiar lullaby. 

Ever so slowly, Peter’s breathing evened out, and Harley focused on him. He focused on the way that Peter's chest rose and fell in a certain rhythm, deep and clear and needing. He focused on how Peter’s eyelids fluttered against his skin. He focused on how the other boy’s lips were still pressed so so delicately to Harley's neck. Absentmindedly, he wondered if Peter would remember the conversation when they woke up. 

He came to the conclusion that no, Peter wouldn’t remember. They’d had several late night discussions before, but the two that they had on the cusp of sleep were the ones Peter always struggled to remember what was talked about. Harley didn’t have this problem- he hung on every word Peter ever said like it was a saving grace. He remembered how many conversations they had, and all the small details that had made him fall in love with Peter. And he was in love with peter. 

Maybe… just maybe, Peter was in love with him too. He certainly was in love with Rose, who did not have the social awkwardness or the weird tendencies that Harley did just based on the pure fact that Peter only saw Rose through the words on his arms. However, maybe Peter was in love with him too. Maybe Peter found something in him that Harley had always failed to see- but then again, he thought sleepily, Peter saw the best in him. Peter saw him for how he was around Peter and Harley loved the person he was around Peter. He loved Peter. And Peter loved him. 

Peter loved him like he was worthy of that honor. Peter loved him in the way that he thought Harley was beautiful and picturesque and stunning, but still respected the idea that Harley was more than just his soft edges- that he had hard edges too. Peter loved him in the way that Peter knew all of his favorite songs, and knew that Harley liked to sing lead, and would always sing back up. Peter loved him in the way that Harley could trust him with every single secret he’d ever had. Peter loved him so much that Harley felt like he was going to burst. 

Soon, he thought, sinking into sleep himself, I’ll tell him soon. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really hope you like itt!! the ending of this fic feels kinda rushed so i want yalls opinion on it. Chapter 9 shall be coming out in a few days bc... timing?
> 
> hit me up @ Peachy-Keener on tumblr or leave a comment!


	9. I Think He Knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter hadn’t noticed it before, but there was a rose- soft, and pink- pressed directly next to Harley’s pillow, a paper note next to that rose. He blinked. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who's kept up with this fic since the begining! I hope you all enjoy the final chapter! 
> 
> thank you to sarah and ava who have been my betas for this fic, and everyone whos put up with my rambling and ideas for it. i really hope everyone is pleased with this chapter.
> 
> Last chapter, harley came to terms with the fact that peter was his soulmate and now,,, now >:)

_ when we get all alone / i'll make myself at home -taylor swift, I Think He Knows _

  
  


Peter stared at Harley. Harley stared back. Slowly, he found the words he’d been looking for, “You want  _ me-  _ me, Peter Parker-Stark, who created a fire in the home-ec lab oven while being  _ guided  _ on how to cook things- to make  _ you _ \- you, Harley Keener, who rivals my father in the kitchen and makes the entire tower food every day- a cake.”   
  
“Okay, well first of all,” Harley’s resolve broke and he rolled his eyes, sighing like he was dealing with a small child, “You’re ridiculous. You can cook, you just don't have the right teachers. Second of all, it's not for me, it's for my mom.”   
  
“Again. Why would you want me to cook for her?”   
  
Harley reached over, poking Peter in the chest, “Well you can't with that attitude.”    
  
“Who placed the bet?”   
  
“I have no idea what you're talking about.”   
  
“Harley. Who placed the bet that you could teach me how to cook something edible.”   
  
His friend paused and a guilty expression passed through his face, “Your dad.”   
  
“My Dad,” Peter just slowly blinked at Harley, “My dad. My dad, Tony Stark, who's been trying to teach me how to cook since I was five and knows damn well that I’m literally cursed in the kitchen bet you that you couldn’t teach me how to cook, and you accepted.”   
  
“Yes,” Harley frowned, “Because I think you can cook. It's just- it’s chemistry, Peter!”

“It is not just chemistry!” Peter huffed, leaning forward to flick his friend’s forehead, “Chemistry is easy. Cooking is precise and stupid and I hate it.”

“It literally is chemistry!”    
  
“It is not!”   
  
“Is to!”   
  
“Is not!”   
  
Harley pinched his brow and shot him a glare, something that looked really cute on him, “Listen, I will guide you through the whole thing. I’ll help you measure out the ingredients, and set the timers, and make the frosting. Okay?”   
  
“Your funeral,” Peter shifted, moving to be closer to him, “But okay. I’m warning you now- I’m cursed. It's the Parker curse. I’ve only ever known one Parker to be a good cook and that was my uncle Ben. Both my biological parents couldn’t cook, according to dad, and neither can May. Once you get slapped with the Parker name you lose the ability to cook.”   
  
“Curses aren’t real, Peter,” his friend shot back, and bent down to rummage around the drawers, “Now, can you get the flour, sugar, and vanilla out?”   
  
“Yeah, sure.”

He reached up for the cabinet where the raw baking ingredients were and it hit him like a brick how domestic this was. Baking a cake with Harley- that was pretty… sweet. This was all very sweet. Here they were, relaxing, baking a cake together for Harley’s mom and sister. What could be more domestic than that? Maybe in another world… maybe in a different life… this would be them every day.

Harley was getting out other ingredients, like the milk, the butter, the eggs, and honey. Slowly they compiled all of their ingredients and were left in to create something. His friend leaned back, pressing into his side, “Okay so, first thing you’ll need to remember is keep your wet from your dry for a bit.”

“Okay. Right. Yes. That's a part of cooking. I knew that.”   
  
“Okay big guy,” Harley snorted, and pointed to a pot of water on the stove, “You’re gonna place that medium bowl on the pot of hot water, okay?”   
  
Peter blinked, “what?”   
  
“For this cake recipe,” his friend explained, looking at him with bright eyes, “We need to temper some of the ingredients together. In order to temper eggs without cooking them you have to do it over a pot of hot water, stirring constantly.” 

“Oh. That’s- are you sure I can do this?”   
  
“Yes Peter, I’m very sure you can do this.”   
  
Hesitantly, he placed the bowl over the pot, and Harley brought over the two eggs, the sugar, the vanilla, and the honey. Peter stared at him again. Harley just huffed, rolling his eyes, “Go on, tiger. You’re gonna wanna crack the eggs, and then add the sugar. As you stir, you’ll add the honey and the vanilla.”

Peter did as asked, frowning slightly at the mixture. He stirred, feeling a little clunky in what he was doing. Was it normal to struggle with the most simple of tasks? He didn’t think so. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t like cooking, it was just that whenever he cooked he felt like he was doing it wrong. 

“Here,” Harley murmured, shifting behind him and moving to cup over his hand where he was holding the whisk, “Like this.”    
  
That's it. That was it. Peter had died and gone to heaven and Heaven was the fact that one of Harley’s hands was on the counter on the other side of Peter, and one of them was holding his hand showing him how to do this. Harley was pressed to his back and his chin was hooked over his shoulder, and this was domestic heaven and Peter was relishing in it. 

He couldn’t voice that though, so instead he blurted, “Are you excited?”   
  
“For?”   
  
“Your mom and sister,” Wow, had Harley always been this warm? His hand was so soft on Peter’s. Was that always the case? “They’re coming up to live in New York. You have to be excited right?”   
  
“Oh, yeah,” Harley was relaxed against him, focused on helping him get the perfect whisking technique, “I’m really excited. My mom is too- she already applied for this job in this bakery, and she has to come in to show what she can do, and then she’ll get the job. They’re not gonna be here in Manhattan, but they’ll be in Queens.”   
  
Peter blinked, “Wait I thought they were staying at the tower with us?”   
  
“What?” His friend pulled back slightly to raise an eyebrow at him, “No, dude. They’ll stay here for the first week as part of the deal with Tony, but only until their apartment is ready for them to move into. They’re not gonna take advantage of your family.”    
  
But you are family, a voice inside Peter’s head whispered. Peter frowned harder, electing to ignore it, “Not taking advantage of us. We have more money than we know what to do with. I’m sure if they wanted to be closer my dad could even set them up with an apartment in Manhattan.”    
  
“Nope. Mom would absolutely never accept a hand out,'' Harley hummed and moved to add in a dash of vanilla and a spoonful of honey. Peter kept stirring like Harley had shown him, “Besides, Queens isn't all bad. Your aunt’s in queens.  _ Spidey  _ is in queens.”    
  
“Yep,” He focused harder on the task, saying awkwardly, “Spidey is in Queens.”   
  
Harley laughed at something or another, shaking his head and hoping up on the counter, “You’re not gonna make fun of me for my gigantic crush on him are you?” 

“Oh so you admit you have a gigantic crush on him?” Peter waggled his eyebrows, but he could feel his cheeks heating up slightly with the information he already knew, “What happened to ‘no, I don’t want Spider-Man to fuck me!’”   
  
His friend went beat red and he looked away, stating matter of factly, “You still can't prove anything.”   
  
“Except that you have a giant crush on him.”   
  
“Except that I have a giant crush on him,” Harley turned his attention to the mixture on the stove, and hummed, “Perfect. Take that off the pot now, and put it somewhere to cool while we mix our flour, our milk, and our butter.”    
  
Peter did just that, then blinked, “Uh… how much?”

“Two cups flour, one cup milk, two sticks butter.”    
  
“Uh-”   
  
“C’mere,” Harley made grabby hands, and took up his position behind Peter again, “First you add this,” He guided Peter’s hands towards the bag of flour, grabbing a measuring cup, and taking out one full cup, dumping it into the bowl, then repeating, “Then the milk,” he had peter steady the measuring cup and he poured, letting Peter do the honors of putting it in the bowl, “Then the butter,” the two sticks were slightly melted, more like a soft pudding than two solid sticks of butter, “And now we beat it together.”   
  
He waited for Harley to guide his hands, and wasn’t disappointed with the results he got. Harley had such strong hands when he wanted something, and it was relaxing to have his friend guide him through the cooking process he hated so much. Soon enough, they were half way to creaming the mixture together.

“It's reasonable to have a crush on him.”   
  
Peter blinked. They were still talking about Spider-Man, apparently. “Oh yeah?”   
  
“Mhmm,” Harley’s eyes were focused on the task at hand and when Peter glanced at him he was taken aback by just how blue they were, “It didn’t help that I thought he was my soulmate for a long time.”

Air exited his lungs. What? What? What the fuck? Harley had thought Spider-Man was his soulmate. Harley had thought Spider-Man was his soulmate. Spider-Man who was Peter. By proxy, Harley had thought that Peter was his soulmate. Holy shit- Harley had thought that Peter was his soulmate. 

Was Harley Rose? Harley couldn’t be Rose- but who else in the world could have thought that Spider-Man was their soulmate. Fuck- okay- what? How was he supposed to respond to that? Was he just supposed to blow it off like it was nothing? Was it nothing? Was this nothing? It didn’t feel like nothing. It felt like Peter had been punched fifty thousand feet in the air and he was now in free fall. Was Harley his Rose? He couldn’t be Rose right? 

“In my defense,” Harley hummed, focusing harder on making the cake, “He’d gotten really really sick this one week a few years ago, after an allergic reaction to some type of bite. He kept writing and telling me how he could walk on his ceiling and stick on walls and stuff.”   
  
Oh god. Was Harley Rose? Was Harley his Rose? Holy shit. What?   
  
“Of course he was just saying nonsense,” The other boy dismissed his theory in simple words. Peter was just thinking nonsense. He would know if Harley was Rose, “But it was strange that that happened a few weeks before Spider-Man showed up. I thought for sure it was evidence but… I dunno. I shouldn’t project that onto Spidey. I do think Spidey is absolutely a dream boat though.”   
  
Peter cleared his throat, and his voice came out slightly strained, “You’ve uh- you’ve never seen his face though. He could be an ugly mug.”   
  
“I don’t need to see his face,” Harley hummed, “It's the way he treats me that makes him a dreamboat. Here- this is beaten together so let's go ahead and pour the tempered mixture to it.”

Peter obeyed, not paying attention to anything else than what Harley had said.  _ ‘It's the way he treats me that makes him a dreamboat’. _ He wouldn’t lie and say he didn’t… exactly shield away from Harley whenever they were together when he was Spidey. Most nights now consisted of Peter pulling Harley in his lap, and listening to the boy ramble until he got an alert from Karen telling him of a crime. But that wasn’t exactly his fault- it was just that Harley felt made to sit in his lap. 

He was all curved edges nowadays, all soft and gentle. He’d thickened up and it showed, and fucking- Peter was just a man! If he wanted to hold his friend’s thighs and maybe touch his ass and sit with him in his lap he should be allowed too! And sure maybe he had several fantasies about having sex with his friend as Spider-Man, but that was just normal teenage boy attraction. It didn't mean he actually was romantically into Harley. Just that Harley had a rocking body and a pretty laugh and a cute smile and nice eyes and made him smile. 

His eyes fell to the curve of Harley's neck and he swallowed down the urge to kiss it. 

God- what was he even thinking. Harley wasn’t Rose! He wasn’t Harley’s soulmate! Just because Harley had once thought his soulmate was Spider-Man meant absolutely nothing in the grand scheme of things. It was nothing. Maybe the story about how Harley’s soulmate had written on his arm was eerily similar to Peter’s experience with the night he told his Rose about it, but that didn’t mean anything. 

Loads of kids must've gotten bit by a spider and hallucinated sticking to walls nowadays. That was normal. 

“Now that our batters made,” Harley turned to him, “We can pour it into a cake pan and cook it for thirty minutes. Then we can make some whipped cream and use that as frosting and put strawberries in the middle. Okay?”   
  
He blinked. What was Harley talking about again? Oh, right they'd been baking a cake, “Yeah- yeah sounds good.”

Helping Harley, he made sure the cake mold didn’t move while Harley poured. Harley wasn’t his Rose. He would know if Harley was Rose. Right? Slipping the cake into the oven he turned to his friend. 

Harley had hopped up on the counter, thighs spread slightly apart and smile coy and soft, “You did it. Now you just gotta make sure it doesn't burn.”   
  
“What?” His mind was blank and his mouth was dry, “Right... Right.”   
  
“What do you wanna do while we wait?”   
  
“Oh, uh…” Peter bit his tongue to stop from saying ‘you’ to Harley’s question, “I don’t really know. I don’t wanna play video games or watch a movie or forget about it.”

“That makes sense,” Harley nodded, stretching slightly, and Peter’s eyes were drawn to where Harley's shirt rode up ever slightly and there was a line of freckles on his skin and Peter didn’t think he would ever recover from seeing that, “Hey are you okay?”   
  
Peter blinked, “Oh- what?”   
  
“You’re really red,” His friend frowned, jumping down from the counter to step towards him. 

Peter backed up, but that was a mistake because Harley kept going and suddenly Peter was against the cabinet doors with a blonde looking at him. Swallowing he tried not to picture flipping his friend and kissing him. God, he shouldn’t have thought about those nights as Spidey holding the other boy in his laps. God, he was an idiot. 

Harley reached up, pressing a hand to his face, “No fever. Are you feeling okay?”   
  
“Dance with me,” Peter blurted, instead of commenting on how he was feeling, “I- I can’t promise not to step on your toes, but I’d really love it if we could dance together.”    


“Oh,” Harley breathed, a small smile coming to his face that made Peter’s heart race even faster than it had been in these past few minutes, “Yeah. Yeah, I’d love that.”

How was Harley Keener so beautiful- that was the only thought on his mind as he pulled the other boy towards him, hands firm and tight on his hips. Harley took that as his cue to loop his hands around Peter's neck and all Peter wanted to do was to kiss him. Instead of giving into that urge and hurting his Rose, he pressed his face into Harley’s shoulder and swayed. 

Nothing in the world was as nice as this, he decided. 

Harley was in his arms, and they were pressed together, and it was nice. His friend’s smell of Marshmallows and roses was overpowered just slightly by the smell of the baking cake, but he could still smell him. Everything was soft right now, too. 

It was perfect. 

Slowly, they stopped swaying, in favor of staying pressed together until the timer went off. Harley pulled away first, looking up at him through his lashes, “C’mon, lets go get the cake out and we can get whipped cream and strawberries. Right?”

“Yeah,” Peter’s voice was softer than he meant it to be, “Yeah. Lead the way?”   
  
Harley moved away from him, but his hand stayed in Peter’s.

  
  


_ he got my heartbeat / skipping down 16th Avenue -taylor swift, I Think He Knows _

  
  


Harley’s eyes narrowed on where Lila Barton was dragging his blushing sister away from the group, babbling about showing her the archery range in the tower, “That's a development I never needed to see.”    
  
“Aw,” His mom hummed, eyes sparkling, “I think it's sweet that your sister has a friend.”    
  
He turned to her, “She's blushing.” 

“She’s like eleven.”    
  
“You can get crushes when you’re eleven.”    
  
“You’re an overprotective brother,” Macy smiled at him, eyes sparkling, and Harley thought his mom sounded like she was making fun of him, “Just wait till she turns sixteen. It’ll be worse.”    
  
His nose wrinkled- he didn’t want to think about his baby sister turning sixteen and entering the world of dating. Especially if she was gonna be dating Lila Barton, who by all accounts was on her way to training and following in her dad's footsteps. Not that there was anything wrong with that, just that Harley wasn’t sure he wanted his precious baby sister thrown into the life of always worrying about whether her girlfriend was gonna get back to her. And yes he was going to ignore how hypocritical that thought was because of his soulmates own superhero activities. 

Besides his little sister getting dragged off by a small heathen, the welcome party was going great. May and his mom had gotten on famously, the two clicking like they had been meant to be best friends. Where May went, Pepper went, so now his mom was friends with two of the most powerful people in the city; Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark industries and overwhelming badass, and May Parker, only adult alive who could force Peter to sleep. What a terrifying trio those three made. 

Overall, he was really glad that his family were moving up. They’d been scouting a place in Queens, a short five minute walk away from May’s apartment. Abbie had been scouted out by a school specializing in linguistics in Queens that found her aptitude for picking up languages exactly what they were looking for. His mom, meanwhile, had managed to get that job in the bakery shed been worried about. 

Now, he was sitting here with his family and his friends, watching everyone laughing and having a good time. Tony was stealing glances at his mom every few minutes, and Macy was pretending not to glance back, and Harley wanted to gag. His only saving grace was his soulmate- because Peter was playing charades with the rest of his gang and making fun of the Avengers. 

When he moved onto a painfully accurate charade of Steve falling on his ass during a mission and using the shield to bounce back up, his mom leaned over, “So that Peter boy… he’s your Solo?”   
  
“I-” He turned, facing his mom, “How’d you know?”   
  
“Harley, sweet pea,” his mom raised a sharp eye brow, and once again, Harley felt like he was being made fun of by her, “You’ve got that look on your face.”    
  
“There is no look.”   
  
“Yes there is- that's the look you make whenever you’re talking to Solo, or thinking about Solo, or doing something that’ll help Solo.”   
  
“Are you making fun of me, ma?”   
  
“Oh honey,” She smiled softly, “I’m always making fun of you.”   
  
Huffing, he shifted his attention back to Peter, “You’re so mean to me.”   
  
“Guilty as charged,” From the corner of his eye he could see his mom's eyes get drawn to Tony, “but I’m right aren’t I? He’s your Solo.”   
  
“You’re terrifying, you know that? It took me seven months to put it together and it took you half an hour.”   
  
“It's in how he treats you, honestly,” Harley would deny the fact that he was blushing at his mom's words now, “He just… I dunno, Harley, but I’ve never seen anyone in the world look at anyone like that. It’s like he thinks you’re royalty. And you two… are so easy with each other. You really do just radiate the fact that you care about him and he cares about you. It’s sweet as sugar, to be honest.”   
  
“He ain’t that sweet to me…” Denial was his only option at this point, “He’s like that with everyone. He doesn’t know it’s me that's his soulmate.”

Macy turned her attention to her son again, mouth quirking up in a grin that mirrored the one Harley often had, “That boy may not know you’re his soulmate fully, but trust me, he knows. Maybe it's not something he’s thought about a lot, or even beyond something more than a gut feeling, but if the way that boy smiles at you is any way to tell then he knows you're his soulmate. Or at least his soul does. Sweetpea, he looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky. You’re the best thing in the world to happen to that boy, and if he doesn’t realize he’s your soulmate, then he at least realizes  _ that. _ ”

“Ma,” Harley’s protest caught in his throat, “You really think I’m the best thing to happen to him?”   
  
“Well now, I don’t know his life story,” she cautioned, but her grin remained, “But I do know your boy keeps looking over here to see if he’s making you laugh. I do know that he made a cake with you, just because you asked him too, when Anto- Mr. Stark mentioned that he doesn't bake or cook and hates it. I do know that he looks at you like you stole the breath from his lungs. I do know that he’s happiest around you. I know when he grabbed your hand earlier, he treated it like he was holding something precious. I don’t know his life story but I do think that you’re one of the best things in the world to happen to him in his eyes.”

“Well- I-” He flushed, running a hand through his hair, “He’s the best thing to ever happen to me too. I know we talked about how much better I’d been doing but- I’m telling you now, mama, it was all him for a long time. He made me better. And then I started to want to be better so that I could be with him. He’s just- He really saved me, I think.”   
  
“I’m glad, sugar,” His mom leaned up and kissed his cheek, “I’m really happy for you, Harley. And I’m so so proud of how far you’ve come from the day I sent you up here to now. It just… I’m proud of you.”    
  
A familiar feeling settled in his chest. Back in Rose Hill, he had been astonished at the fact that no matter where he was in life his mom was proud of him- proud of who he was and what he’d become. Here, now, in New York, in the place he felt most comfortable in, he wasn’t astonished. Instead, he slipped into the feeling of pride like one would an old comfortable t-shirt. 

Call him a mama’s boy, but he really really did love his mom. Macy Keener had given him everything in the world. Love, acceptance, patience. Pride. And now that she was in New York, maybe she’d start getting it back too.    
  
“I’m proud of me too,” Harley offered a grin to his mom, the same exact one she had given him, “And I’m proud of you.”    
  
“Proud of me?”    
  
“You and your soulmate have been talking, and now you're here in New York City,” His grin got worse. If his mom was always making fun of him, then he was always making fun of her back, “Sparks flying in the air yet?”   
  
Macy laughed and shook her head, “Sweetpea, you don’t wanna hear about my love life.”    
  
“No I absolutely do- I need to know if I need to threaten Tony Stark or not.” 

“Harley,” She said fondly, shaking her head again, “I love you kiddo but you absolutely are not threatening Mr. Stark. He doesn't deserve that. I’m not even sure I wanna pursue it as a romantic bond, and even then, if I do, we’re gonna need all of our kids' permission. Besides- don’t you think it's a little weird your boyfriend's dad is my soulmate? Just best to stay away from it.”    
  
Harley felt his nose scrunch, “It is weird but we don’t have to think about that.”    
  
“We’re from Tennessee, not Alabama.”    
  
“Mom!” He choked, eyes going wide, “Please tell me you didn’t just say that!”

“Oh, sweetpea,” Macy shook her head, patting his arm gently, “You really need to lighten up.”   
  
“Mother!”    
  
His mom just laughed. 

Shaking his head, he leaned back, turning his attention to the scene in front of him. Peter was still doing charades, this time of Natasha doing something or another, and it was quite honestly hilarious. Nat was cackling on the couch, and the rest of his friends were laughing hysterically. The boy was good at that- making people laugh. 

“So does that mean you like him?”   
  
“Of course I like him,” his mom hummed, eyes trained on Tony again, “Your soulmate cares about you Harley. I never asked for much in my life, but I always asked that your soulmate love you no matter what. Especially when you and him decided you two were gonna be romantics in the past few years. It's just… seeing it in action, sweetheart, reminds me of how much good you deserve. And that boy- he treats you like I would want your future husband to treat you. Kind. Caring. Loving. I like him very much, Harley. I’m happy you’ve found him.”   
  
“I’m really happy I’ve found him too,” His voice betrayed the joy he was trying to fight down, and he held back a laugh at Peter getting challenged by Bucky on who could do a better Sam Wilson impression, “He’s just… one of the best things to ever happen to me. Mama- I love him. I really really love him. He’s just- I never knew that I could feel so strongly for one person before. When it was just Solo, or just Peter, I thought- and then when I realized they were the same people all that love combined and I just don’t know what to do with myself.”   
  
His mom’s grin softened into a gentle smile, “Yes you do. You know exactly what you’re gonna do with yourself. You’re gonna become ready, and you’re gonna tell him. You’re gonna show him all that love you keep inside your heart and you’ll finally be allowed to express it. One day, far far far far far in the future, you two are gonna get married. And I will be the happiest mother on earth because you are going to be with the true love of your life, Harley. I can’t promise you two will have every day sunshine and rainbows, because couples do fight, but I can promise you this, Harley David Keener; you are going to have a long happy life surrounded by the people you love more than anything in the world.”    
  
“Oh, mama,” His eyes stung, and he shifted to pull his mom into a hug, pressing his face to her shoulder like he was five and in her arms after a bad day of school, “Thank you. Thank you so much for being here, and loving me, and loving my soulmate too. Thank you for raising me to be a good man, and showing me that I could be strong. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, ma. You just- you really taught me to be the good I want to see in the world and I- mama-”   
  
“I know baby,” His mom's soft hands were carding through his hair again, “I know. But you don’t gotta thank me for anything. You’ve been through hell and back these past few years, and honey- the way you’ve grown- the people you’re with now- you’re soulmate- it's all wonderful. You don’t gotta thank me for raising you and loving you and caring about you. I would’ve done everything again in a heartbeat. I would’ve dated and married your father again, just for the chance that I could have my baby boy here, happy, in New York, surrounded by friends and family and people who love him.”    
  
“Mama,” his voice caught in his throat, “Mama, don’t say that. You wouldn’t marry Jack again.”   
  
“If it meant that you got to be here, baby, then yeah, I would.” Macy’s voice was firm, “But honey… we don’t ever have to worry about that man again. Never again. We did it Harley. You, your sister, and I- we did it. We beat the odds. We got out sweet pea. We got out.”    
  
“And we’re never going back.”   
  
“Never again.”   
  
He sniffed, pulling away to beam at his mom, “This may just be the happiest I’ve felt in my life.”    
  
“Oh, you’re gonna get a lot happier once that boy of yours fully knows that you're his soulmate,” They slipped back into teasing easily, his mom's eyes twinkling with tears and joy, “That will be the happiest you’ll ever feel. Until you and Peter decide you want kids- oh, that’ll be so sweet, honey-” Macy sighed, shaking her head and grinning at him, “The point is Harley, that you’re gonna have a long long life, full of moments like this that will fill you with joy.”    
  
His eyes found Peter’s, “Yeah, mama. I think I will.” 

  
  


_ i want you / bless my soul -taylor swift, I Think He Knows _

  
  


Peter really did not want to be stuck in a vent above his dad's lab. In fact, if there were a list of things that Peter didn’t want to be doing right now. One was hide and seek with three master assassins, Flash Thompson, Shuri, and Riri. Another was in the vents of Stark tower because he had incorrectly assumed that with his Spider capabilities would help him win. And lastly, he really didn’t want to be stuck in a vent above his dad’s lab. 

Mostly, because his dad and Steve were having a conversation. An  _ intimate  _ conversation. About  _ Harley’s mom.  _ Yes if there was  _ anything  _ Peter didn’t want to be doing right now it was this. He’d rather die than be here at this moment. 

“I don't know Steve,” his dad  _ groaned,  _ and peter was pretty sure he was literally gonna bash his head into the metal he was stuck in, “She’s just so- so-”    
  
“Soft?” Steve was sitting on the desk across from his dad, “You’ve mentioned.”   
  
“And I’m right! That woman is all soft edges and curves and she speaks gently, and she laughs at my dumb jokes, and last night I caught her trying to read a book on thermomolecular physics even though she didn’t understand a word because she wanted to be more prepared for our conversations and-  _ ugh!” _ _   
_ _   
_ “Jesus Christ, Tony.”   
  
Peter heard more than he saw his dad’s head snap up from where it was resting on a table, “Do not Jesus Christ  _ me _ Steve! I had to listen to you rant about Bucky’s dick for three days! Three whole days!”   
  
“Totally different situations!” Steve protested, and Peter was really going to bash his head in because really he  _ really  _ never needed to know anything like that, “Bucky is my soulmate and we had just had sex for the first time in like, sixty years. Of course I need to rant about his dick. That's not at all the same as you wanting to feel Macy up!”

Peter was literally going to scream. This was something he never ever had to hear. He never wanted to hear this, “I do not want to just feel her up! I want to treat her to a magical night of long gentle and hard stark lovin-” 

“Don’t describe it like that, Tony,” he was so grateful that Steve interrupted his father, “Thats creepy.”   
  
“It's not my fault that she’s stunning!”    
  
“She is also the mother to your protegé!”   
  
“Yeah, that's true,” His dad sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “But she’s got killer boobs, and a soft smile, and all I wanna do is press my face to them-”   
  
Peter almost gagged. This was not a conversation he wanted to hear at  _ all,  _ and thankfully Steve agreed, “God, could you maybe not?”   
  
“Literally, Steven, I had to hear about what it was like for you to suck your soulmate’s dick again for the first time in sixty years,” Tony huffed, and Peter was currently planning all the ways he could bash his head in, “So if I wanna talk about how I want to eat out Macy until she cries, you have to suffer.”   
  
“Dad,” Peter choked up, “Shut up! Shut the fuck up! Oh my god- Dad!”   
  
The room jolted, “Peter? What the-”   
  
“Oh my god,” Steve looked up, “I thought I heard something in the vent- I thought it was a  _ rat-” _ _   
_

“Not a rat!” Peter squeaked, a lot more rat-like than he’d like to admit, “A very human child literally stuck in a vent because of hide and seek over hearing that my dad wants to do absolutely  _ heinous  _ things to my best friend's mom!” 

“I do not-  _ heinous-  _ Peter Benjamin Parker-Stark!” he heard his dads footsteps move towards the vent, “Sex is a totally natural and normal and- and- My sex life is none of your business and- Peter Benjamin Parker-Stark you are  _ grounded!” _

He banged his head on the wall of the vent, “I want to be  _ dead _ after hearing that!” 

Someone was unscrewing the screws in the part of the vent he was in, and suddenly he was falling. He laid there, splayed on his back, looking up at the metal tin he had been stuck on. Steve was standing above him, looking awkward, and his father stared down at him, face bright red.    
  
“I’m serious,” He huffed, “You’re terrible. A heathen. That’s Harley’s  _ mom.”  _

“I know that, kiddo,” His dad offered a hand, pulling him up, “But that doesn’t mean I can’t date her.”   
  
“You can’t date her! She’s Harley’s mom!”   
  
“Mhm. We’ve established that. Now why can’t I date her, Underoos?”   
  
“Because,” Peter’s brain was spluttering. He didn’t have a real reason beyond the fact that a part of him really wanted to date Harley and that would be ruined by his dad dating Harley’s mom. The step-bro meme might be popular but Peter was  _ not  _ into that, god dammit. “Because. You’re an old man!”    
  
“So I need company in my old age,” Tony’s eyes were twinkling and Peter was going to hit him, “After all when you go to college, and marry off, what else will I do but go on long walks with the lovely Macy Keener-”   
  
“La la la la la,” hands over his ears, Peter screwed his eyes shut, “I cant hear you! Can’t hear you and your hedonistic ways!”   
  
His dad just laughed, “Kid.”   
  
“Nope! La, la, la!” he stumbled his way through the lab, moving away from his dad, “Im leaving! La la la la!”   
  
Both Steve and his dad just laughed, like it was the funniest thing they had seen in a while. Like they  _ hadn’t  _ just emotionally scared Peter for the rest of his life. He never needed to know about what Steve and Bucky did and he  _ certainly  _ did not need the image of  _ his dad  _ and  _ Harley’s mom  _ fucking in his brain. Horrifying. 

Clambering up the staircase, he was completely done with hide and seek. Now he just needed to find someone to complain too. Or a therapist. Yeah. Maybe he needed to find a therapist. 

Anything to get what he’d just heard out of his head. 

  
  


_ it's like I'm seventeen / nobody understands -taylor swift, I Think He Knows _

  
  


“No. Shut up.”   
  
“Flash, Harry, guys,” Harley rubbed the back of his neck, “I’m not lying. He really is- I-”   
  
Harry shook his head, brow furrowed, “You said your soulmate was Spider-Man, and now you’re saying he’s Peter.”   
  
“Yeah.”   
  
“No way,” His friend shook his head, leaning more into Flash, “No fucking way.”   
  
“I think we’d all know if Peter was Spider-Man, Harley,” Flash’s brow was more furrowed then Harry’s as if he was tallying up all the things that made it not true, “He’d tell us. He’d tell me. Right?”   
  
“No, Harley’s right,” Harley glanced at Shuri, who was speaking matter of factly, and looking every part the princess she was born to be, “I’ve known since the time Spider-Man got shot sixteen times. The medical lab had materials that I needed, and Spider-Man was the only one reported to be in the lab. But it was just Peter.”    
  
“And you didn’t say anything?!”    
  
“She didn’t say anything for the same reasons I didn’t say anything,” Harley looked down, fiddling with his hands, “It's Peters secret to tell. If… if it wasn’t for the fact that you two-” he motioned to Harry and Flash, “Were the people who found out that Spider-Man was my soulmate, then I don’t think I would’ve told anyone. I honestly- forgot you two knew that until you said that it couldn't be true because Spidey is my soulmate.”   
  
“If you’re really Peter’s Rose,” Flash drew slowly, “And if Peter is really Spider-Man… then what do you call Peter when you two write to each other.”   
  
“Solo.”   
  
“Fuck, you weren’t lying-” the boy pressed into his soulmate, and Harry rubbed his arm gently, “Okay. Okay. Peter’s Spider-Man and your soulmate and- and what?”   
  
“I wanna tell him,” Harley breathed, chewing at his bottom lip, “I have this big elaborate plan, and I want to tell him. I really want to tell him. Because he just- you guys know better than anyone what he’s been through because of me.”   
  
Harry exchanged a glance with Flash, and everyone else in the room shifted uncomfortably, “We do… but…”   
  
“He deserves the world,” Harley continued, “He deserves to be loved and cherished and shown that he matters. He deserves happiness. And I want to give him that. I want to show him that I’m his Rose, that I’m his soulmate. I want to be able to spend the rest of my life with him, and I’m finally ready to have that with him if he’s ready too- and- and I think he is.”   
  
Taking a breath he paused, and looked at Flash, “I’m not as oblivious as you all think I am. I’ve noticed for months how you tease him about me, Flash. And then- the way he acts with me when he’s Spidey- just… the fact that Peter wants me as  _ me,  _ beyond who I am as Rose… it makes me ready. He makes me ready. And now I have the chance to show him that, but I can’t do that without all of your help.”   
  
“You… you’re really his Rose?”   
  
“Yeah, I’m his Rose,” The words came easy, “I’m his Rose and he’s my Solo, and I’m in love with him. I just- he’s everything. He’s it for me. He’s all of my endings in this life and the next and I want him to finally know that he’s t for me. He’s chosen me time and time again, and now I’m choosing him too.”   
  
Harry kissed Flash’s head, and glanced at Harley. A silent message came between them, one that they both understood, reminding both of them that they were lucky. They had their soulmates by their side.    
  
“Okay,” Harry said slowly, speaking for him and Flash, “we’re in.”   
  
“Good,” He breathed a sigh of relief, “Good. Here’s the plan-”

  
  


_ i ain't gotta tell him / i think he knows -taylor swift, I Think He Knows _

  
  


Peter blinked awake. Harley was no longer in his bed, and the side of the bed his friend usually slept on was cold. He frowned sitting up. His alarm clock said that it was noon, but that didn’t mean anything. Normally on weekends he and Harley would stay here and cuddle until they had to go because of hunger. 

But right now his friend wasn’t in his bed. He didn’t think too much of it though. Harley had mentioned last night that he had stuff to do in the morning, so maybe he’d gotten up and left without waking Peter up. Which- hey, kind of a shitty way to start the morning, but still. 

Stretching, he made his way to his dresser, pulling on a shirt and some pants. Seriously, he wished that Harley had woken him up when he got up, so that he could get a few minutes of cuddle time in. It wasn’t like he necessarily needed some cuddles with Harley, but it was something that always seemed to make his day feel a lot brighter than the days where he didn’t get to spend a few minutes in the mornings with just Harley’s arms. 

They had a pretty good arrangement most days too. Harley rarely ever actually slept in his own bed now, instead waiting for Peter to come get him at around one am, and take him to Peter’s room where they’d cuddle and watch movies until they fall asleep. It was a really nice little routine, and most mornings they’d wake an hour before school, and relax and talk about the day, before both of them would rush to get ready. It was… nice. 

Moving to his bathroom, he brushed his teeth, kinda grumpy. It really wasn't Harley’s fault he was grumpy, and really he should just stop being so demanding of his friend. Harley was busy! He had things to do! It was totally fine for them both to miss out on the morning cuddle sesh. Except it wasn’t fine and now Peter was grumpy, and he was gonna find out where Harley was and press his face to Harley’s shoulder until he agreed to hug him because Peter was a bit of an attention whore and he was missing his attention! 

He moved back to his bed, and paused. 

Peter hadn’t noticed it before, but there was a rose- soft, and pink- pressed directly next to Harley’s pillow, a paper note next to that rose. He blinked. 

Grabbing the nose, he inhaled kinda sharply. The writing… slanted cursive, looping letters together, and soft curves to the words. This was… this was his Rose’s handwriting. He traced over the words, reading aloud, “My dear Solo… I’m ready to meet when you are. You have made my life so much better, just by being in it. Come to the kitchen to get your next Rose.”    
  
His breath felt short in his chest. Oh my god, his mind was scrambling for thought, his Rose was here in the tower- oh- his Rose was his- 

Peter’s body moved on instinct, slamming himself out of his room, racing down the hallway as fast as he could. The kitchen- how many nights had he and Harley spent baking in the kitchen? All the cookies, and the cakes, and the sweets. How much time had they spent together, leaning over some food, grinning under their breaths, and teasing each other for hours on end? How about all the times that Harley had cooked him food after patrol, not asking questions about why he was hungry, instead just smiling and helping him get something to eat? How much time did they spend together here? 

The kitchen was empty, except for one lone figure. Flash turned to him, with a grin, a pink Rose in his hand, “Someone’s finally up.”   
  
“Flash,” Peter breathed, reaching for the rose, “What's going on?”   
  
“Your soulmate,” The words were light and teasing, and his childhood friend waggled his eyebrows at Peter, “Is a dork. Dorkier than mine. He also made you some breakfast.”   
  
Peter’s eyes flicked to the counter Flash motioned too. Chocolate chip cookies. The first thing he and Harley had ever baked with each other had been chocolate chip cookies. Back then, things had been different. Harley and him had been close, but not… not as close as they were now. Instead, Peter had come to him, because everyone else was asleep, on the verge of tears. Harley had taken it in stride, and offered to bake him some cookies. It was… it was a memory that laid in Peter’s chest and made a home there. 

_ Harley whispered against his throat, “I know how it feels. You once told me you’ve got my back. Well, I’ve got yours too.”  _

Reaching for them, he popped it in his mouth, and then looked at Flash, speaking after he was done chewing, “Where is he?”   
  
“Not so fast,” Flash hummed, pressing the rose to his hand, “Tell me how you’re feeling first?”   
  
“How I’m-” A laugh bubbled up in his chest, “Really really good. I’m- this is-”   
  
“I know, when he told me the plan I was honestly shocked,” His friend smiled softly, then slid him a note, “Here’s the second clue.” 

“So it's a game of clues?”   
  
“Do you need clues?”   
  
“No.”   
  
“Do you know who it is?”   
  
Every part of his heart soared, “I hope I do.”   
  
Flash just smiled wider, “Read the note.”

_ My dearest Peter,  _ the change in name shouldn’t have excited him so much,  _ You’ve been my best and only friend as long as I can remember. Now you’ve brought me into a world where I have everything I could ever want- and you’ve been by my side the entire time. The hallway with all your photos, is where you should head next.  _

His breath hitched. That was the main hallway- the one where all of their rooms were. In every photo on that wall… Harley… he looked up at Flash, “Thank you.”   
  
He didn’t give Flash the chance to respond before he was off, running as fast as he could back to his room. How many photos had he taken of Harley? How many? How long has he spent pondering which angles and which lighting's would look best with the other boy? How many times did he get chewed out in yearbook and Newspaper for only taking photos of him? Every photo on his camera roll these days was a photo of Harley? 

Harry was standing in the hall, another pink rose in his hand, “You made it!”    
  
“Of course I made it-” He reached for the rose and Harry pulled away, “Harry, c’mon-”   
  
“Nope,” Harry’s eyes found the pictures on the wall, “Doesn’t this make you happy?”   
  
He blinked. He wasn’t expecting that, “The quest or the pictures?”   
  
“The pictures. Don’t they make you happy?”   
  
His eyes found a photo he had taken a few months ago. Haley was haloed by gold, in the lab, all of his features were glowing softly. It had been a moment of complete peace and tranquility, with no shadows cast on the freckled boy's skin. Peter couldn’t remember what he’d been feeling at the time, but now, looking at the photo he felt like he could burst from joy. 

_ “Well,” Harley hesitated and Peter wanted to take a thousand and one photos of just his blue eyes, no matter how sickly he was looking right now, “I’m Harley.” _

He’d done it. He’s taken a thousand and one photos of Harley. He’d helped the boy grow from the sickly, pale, afraid kid that had arrived all those months ago, into the boy he was in these photos. These photos. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been happier,” Peter breathed, “Then taking photos of him.”   
  
Harry just smiled, “Oh, young love. It never grows old does it?”   
  
“Shut up, dude- you and Flash-”   
  
“Are mountains more classy than you and him will be,” His friend gently pressed the rose to his palm, adding it to the growing amount of roses already there, “But now we can go on double dates and not you, Flash, or him could stop me from planning them.” 

Peter laughed again, feeling soft, “Okay. Yeah- just- where’s the note.”   
  
“So impatient,” Harry’s grin grew wider, and he gently handed him the note, “Here you go, Pete. I’m happy for you.”    
  
_ My dearest Spidey,  _ he wanted to laugh again, because of course his soulmate knew that he was Spider-Man,  _ I think we’ve come a long long way from when we first met. But it hasn’t always been easy. I know I’ve messed up, and I know you have too. Somehow, we always find each other again, no matter what. Will you go down to the medbay for me? _

His breath hitched. The medbay?    
  
What vital part of their relationship had happened at the medbay… and then it struck him. 

He was off again. 

How could Peter forget the smell of marshmallows and Roses that had greeted him when he had woken up that first time in the med bay after his injury? The light pressure on his forehead- that had been Harley’s lips, gently kissing his skin hadn’t it? Harley had realized that Peter was his soulmate because of how he’d gotten hurt. 

That was something that stung him to think about- but just as quickly as the thought entered his mind, he realized something else. Harley had pulled him back from the brink of death. That had been Harley, who tugged at his soul and brought him back to the land of the living from the place he had been. Harley’s love had done that. 

Harley loved him enough to pull him out from the darkness. 

The elevator opened to show Shuri and Riri, lounging on a bed, both of them playing something on their phones. 

“Oh, he’s here,” Riri spoke first, putting down her phone, “You wanna take this one, Shuri?”   
  
“Hmm- why not? You were the one who was able to calm him down from his anxiety about the hunt.”    
  
“Exactly, meaning you should deal with this one.”   
  
“Okay, okay, I get it,” Shuri moved and grabbed something from the bed she was on, a pink rose.

Peter fought back a smile and the dryness in between the two girls, “Hey.”   
  
“You took too long, we got bored.”   
  
“I see that,” He moved, and reached for the rose again, thinking this time it would be easier to grab it from the girls who seemed to not have much stake in it- but of course it wasn’t easy.   
  
“Not so fast, white boy,” Shuri hummed, “What do you take me for? Someone who won’t commit to my friends wild and ridiculously stupid plans?”

“You-” he shook his head, “He planned this?”   
  
“Has been for weeks.”   
  
“God- he’s so-” perfect, the word rang in his head but he didn’t vocalize it. 

Shuri just hummed again, “What do you think of this place? Why do you think he chose it?”    
  
_ “Okay. How do I- do you want me to go?” _

_ “No,” The word was a panicked gasp, “No- please don’t go.” _

The memory left a slightly bitter taste in his mouth. Harley had chosen this place because of that time. He was sure of it. The idea that Peter had hurt him… 

And yet Harley still trusted him. He still wanted Peter. He still loved him more than anything. It didn’t matter how Peter messed up, because they would come back from it. Relationships were about love and trust. Their soulmate bond was built on love and trust. 

They were built on love and trust.    
  
“Because no matter how bad things get, we come back to each other,” The words flew out of him, and Shuri smiled, “We love each other. And working on our relationship is something that has to happen eventually. We love each other.”    
  
Shuri responded by handing him the next rose and giving him the next note. 

_ My dearest darling, _ Peter traced over the familiar handwriting,  _ you’ve come so far. Thank you so much for staying with me all this time. I know the bad memories this place carries… I know… but believe me, love, I would face all of them again if it meant the chance at knowing you. Head down to the place we create and get your next rose. _

The place we create… the lab. The lab. 

He didn’t even say goodbye to Shuri in his rush to get to Harley. 

They had spent so many hours at the lab, it was hard to miss the significance of it. The lab was one of the places where Harley had come to life those first few weeks of the program. The lab was the place that made Harley relax, and laugh, and smile. It made him safe. And that made Peter feel safe too. Made Peter love the lab too. 

How many days had they spent there, elbow to elbow, building and talking? How many days had they spent together, just memorizing a layout and a design? And Harley- how many hours had Harley spent in the lab alone, designing stuff for him as Spidey? Helping the boy he knew to be his soulmate become a safer hero? The lab- the lab was their place. A place for them, and a place for them to make things with each other. 

When the elevator opened, he was honestly surprised Harley wasn't there. He was also surprised because Harley’s mom was with his dad, the two of them pressed together, watching some movie. 

“Dad-” His breath left him, and his dad just grinned. 

“So you’ve finally realized?” His dad waggled his eyebrows, “Good for you kiddo.”   
  
“You- what?”   
  
“Your father’s known for a month,” Macy Keener spoke, eyes sparkling so much like Harley’s, voice filled with happiness, “Of course, I barely laid eyes on you before realizing you were my boy's soulmate.”

It was Macy that was holding the rose, not his dad. 

“You.. did?”   
  
“Mhm,” Her voice was soft and teasing- Peter suddenly understood why Harley was so… Harley, and that was because he took after his mom, “Of course I did. Peter- you look at my son like he’s the only thing in your world. And you treat him like it too. I can’t say much for your character, boy, but I can say this; you love my son.”    
  
She said the words matter of factly, like she knew them to be true. Peter knew them to be true, too, but he still echoed it after her, “I love your son. He’s- ma’am, he’s probably one of the best things to ever happen to me. No- he  _ is  _ the best thing to ever happen to me. You- you raised a wonderful man, and he’s the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.” 

“Oh Peter,” Macy shifted away from his dad, the shorter woman coming to stand before him and pull him into a hug, “Thank you for loving him. Thank you for caring about him. You showed him that he’s capable of accepting love. I was so- I was so afraid when I sent him up here to New York that he’d have the same experience he did in Rose Hill and you- you made it all better. Your love saved my son from the darkest parts of the world. So thank you, Peter Parker-Stark.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he flushed, a feeling of pride welling up in his chest, “Just- you approve right? He’s my world- but before he became my world- he was your world- er, he still is your world-”    
  
“My little boy will always be my world,” Macy said softly, and smiled, “But if it's my blessin’ you’re asking for Peter, I promise you, you have it. Just like Harley has your father’s,” The attention turned back to his dad, who grinned and moved to join the hug. 

“I think you two will be good for each other, Peter,” His dad’s voice was fond, and his eyes warm, “And I’m glad we chose him for the program.” 

Peter pulled away, eyes wet, “Me too. Me too.”   
  
“Here you go, sweetheart,” Macy pressed the pink rose into the steady growing bouquet, “Thank you for all the love you have for my son.”    
  
Words failing, all Peter could do was nod softly, eyes wet. His dad held out a note. 

_ My love,  _ the words read,  _ thank you for being so patient with me. Thank you for always showing me the best sides of myself. Thank you for loving me, and telling me that I’m good enough. Thank you for the long hours building together, and the movie nights where we didn’t sleep, too enthralled in each other's arms. Thank you for the days at school, and the academic decathlon team. Thank you for the photos, and the memories, and the dreams. Thank you for every single thing you do. Thank you for waiting till I was ready. Thank you for never pushing and for always being there. This has been a pretty easy scavenger hunt- I wanted to really spell it out for you- but either way. Come to the roof and collect your prize.  _

“The roof-” His voice caught in his throat and he looked at his dad, “He’s on the roof?”   


Tony nodded, hand slipping into Macy’s, “He’s waiting for you kiddo.”   
  
With the silent blessing, Peter stepped into the elevator. 

Unlike every other stop on this tour, he wasn’t shaking in anticipation. He wasn’t nervous, or fidgety, or impatient. All that was in his heart was the excitement and love that came with knowing that in only a few seconds he would be face to face with the boy he loved. 

Of course Harley was on the roof. The roof was special to Harley- it's where he had first met Spider-Man. And Spider-Man was the boy he thought was his soulmate, before he had known it was Peter. The roof was special to him. The roof was a place where he and Peter had met, masked and secretive, to spend time together. A place where Peter hadn’t shied away from expressing his feelings towards Harley, and the place Harley had gotten to know the soulmate beyond the writing at first. 

The roof was their place. It was for them. Every other place that Peter had been too- they shared that. But the roof wasn’t like that. The roof was where the two of them were always alone, with each other, in each other's arms. It was  _ for them.  _ It was  _ theirs. _

The elevator doors slid open and Peter's breath hitched. 

Harley was standing in the middle of the roof, on a picnic blanket, rose petals around him. He was in one of Peter’s sweatshirts, dwarfing him, hanging off his frame in a way that drew Peter’s attention to him. His attention was always drawn to Harley. 

It was drawn to the soft curve of his cheekbones, and the fullness of his lips, and the crinkle on his nose. He was drawn to the golden curls, soft ringlets and waves. His attention was drawn to the way Harley held himself, how he always seemed to be nervous but willing to move forward, willing to try, willing to be with people no matter his fears. He was drawn to Harley. 

Harley was holding a single red rose, “Peter.”

When he was barely thirteen, he had imagined how his Rose would say his name for the first time. They’d meet somewhere cute, in a cafe, and they’d know each other on a first glance. Rose would introduce himself- Harley, he’d say, smile soft- and Peter would too. Harley would repeat his name back to him, and it would be magic. 

This wasn’t like the fantasy he’d had when he was thirteen. This wasn’t in a cafe. Peter wasn’t dressed in a suit. Harley wasn’t saying his name for the first time. This wasn’t their first meeting. But the way that Harley said his name made his heart pound and his head spin. He jerked forward, body working on pure instinct, soul begging to be closer and closer and closer. 

His hands cupped Harley’s cheeks, and he lent in- before remembering himself, words about to tumble out of him, beg for permission to kiss the boy he’d been in love with for years, “Harley-”   
  
“Why’d you stop?” 

That was all Peter needed. All that he needed to hear. 

Their first kiss was fireworks. It wasn’t a shy brush of lips, where they both left blushing. No- they both knew each other too well for that. Instead it was a firm press into each other, melting as they forced themselves closer, and closer, and closer, bodies begging to be together, souls so enchanted to finally be what they wanted. Harley’s lips were chapped, the rough texture to them making Peter feel slightly feral, and the other boy's hands found their way to tangle in his hair, as one of Peter’s hands dropped around his waist, pulling him closer. 

Pulling away for mere seconds, he caught his breath, before kissing Harley again, deeper this time. This was important- these few kisses- they meant that they both knew. He kissed Harley again, and again, and again, until his lungs ached with the need to breath, and Harley was panting beneath his lips. 

“Thank God it’s you,” Peter whispered, lips brushing Harley’s, “I thought- I  _ hoped  _ you were my Rose-”   
  
“I hoped you were my Solo,” Harley murmured back, kissing him again before continuing, “God, Peter- I-”   
  
He cut the other boy off, “I’m in love with you, Harley David Keener. I was in love with you when we were kids, I was in love with you when we grew up, and I’m in love with the you I’ve gotten to know here, in this building, on this rough, with me.”

“I’m in love with you too,” The confidence in which Harley spoke made Peter’s heart race, “God- I’ve been in love with Solo for a long time, but the second I met you, Peter Parker-Stark, you threw me for a loop and made me fall in love with you. I love you, Peter- god- you’re just- you’re my  _ world.  _ You’re more than that-”    
  
Peter cut him off with a kiss this time, needing to convey just how much he loved Harley Keener. Harley responded eagerly, pressing closer to him again, letting Peter take control. He loved this- loved the eagerness in which they kissed, the comfort of it, the familiar feeling of  _ right  _ settling in his soul. 

“Be my boyfriend,” Harley gasped out between passionate kisses, “Date me- let me take you out- please-”   
  
“Yes,” The word was more of a command then an answer, every part of him- mind, body, soul- saying it in unison, “Yes, Harley.”    
  
His boyfriend- Harley was his  _ boyfriend-  _ pressed his face to his shoulder and laughed, pure and bright and bubbling. And Peter found himself laughing too, coming from the deepest part of his soul and illuminating his entire mind. 

After all, Harley Keener was here in his arms, and nothing in the world was better than this. This was the feeling of pure joy, and nothing could beat it. He pulled back from his love, to cup his face and pull him into a kiss, just because he  _ could  _ kiss him now. 

His Harley was his Rose, and in Peter's arms, he was so very much alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope everyone liked this!! and thank you again to sarah and ava!!
> 
> hit me up at peachy-keener on tumblr, or leave a comment!

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up @ Peachy-Keener on tumblr, or please leave a comment down bellow! 
> 
> Thank you!


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